Falling Skies Remembrance
by Melissa Mendelson
Summary: The world was over, and he struggled to remember why.
1. Chapter 1

The world was over. Streets were vacant. Cars abandoned. Homes were left open; its heart destroyed. A child's bike laid on one side, and its wheels still spun slowly around and around. All life was gone, and hollow footsteps slipped across concrete. The end was met with soft, brown eyes.

A bloody hand cautiously touched the golden doorknob. The door was slowly pushed open. Debris met the wandering gaze, and sunlight chased shadows away. Fingers traced the door, trying to remember, but instead left a fingerprint behind. A slumped form stumbled inside, and knees struck the floor. And time fell away.

He must have been lying there for hours. The sun was hot on his skin, but then it moved away. The wind rustled through his hair, and pain screeched across his body. His arm hurt the most, covered in blood, and it took every ounce of strength to rise off the floor. His eyes returned to the world, but the world was gone. There was no sign of life. Maybe he was the last man standing after all.

The kitchen was a wreck. Signs of a struggle met his gaze. The window was shattered. The table was smashed. The sink was clear, but hardly any water ran out across the drain. It was just enough to wash some blood away, and hands rose to a rugged face, a face unknown to him.

"Aztecs and Mayans," he muttered. "Aztecs and Mayans."

It was a strange thought. Their civilizations were gone, and historians struggled to know exactly why. But maybe that was what had happened here. Maybe mankind just disappeared. If that were the case, why was he left behind? Was it punishment for something that he did, or did they forget about him? If only he could remember, but no memories returned to him. Instead, he clung to the sink, wishing to know how he came to be here.

It didn't matter. He had to keep moving. He wasn't sure as to why, but every nerve in his body tightened with the sense of danger. Something wasn't right, and he couldn't afford to stay too long. His stomach rumbled, and he opened the fridge, hoping to find food. All he found were crackers left in a cabinet, and it would have to do. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would find more food and shelter down the road, and if he didn't, he would have to go hunting. Maybe the wildlife was still alive and well, and nature was the one taking back the world.

More time slipped past. The pain in his arm became a dull throb. His head was clear, and it wasn't. His mouth was dry, and his eyes stung. Maybe he should've died. Maybe he should've disappeared. This wasn't living but living as the walking dead, and he desperately wanted answers. Instead, all he had was a long, empty road filled with abandoned cars, debris, and maybe even a dead body or two, and the dead would not talk to him. Their charred remains were more ash than bone, and their secrets were theirs to keep.

Metal scratched earth. The hair on his neck and arms waved into the air. Eyes fell across his back. His body slowly turned. He half-expected to see some sort of monster, alien standing behind him, but all he saw was a little boy half out of a man hole not far down the road. He wanted to say something, but his body lurched forward, desperate for human contact. But he noted the horrified look on the boy's face, but he couldn't stop himself. And he fell forward into the manhole, chasing the boy.

"Wait," he whispered. "Wait. Please." The boy ran further down the tunnel. "Son…" Son? Was he a father? Did he have a son? "Please, I need to know. I need to know who I am."

Footsteps fell behind him. He froze mid-step. Fear and relief overwhelmed him. He was not the last man standing. There was still life. There was still hope, and he smiled at that. He smiled as something came crashing down against the back of his head.

Was it night or day? Who could tell when you were underground. His body recognized the comfort of a bed, so they had not cast him aside like before. He was not left behind, wandering alone, and the pain in his arm was gone, bandaged. His head hurt like hell, but he tried to rise. Instead, a sharp, old hand fell against his chest.

"Rest," she snapped. "Rest."

"No," he whispered. "I have to know. I have to know." He fell back down against the mattress. "Please. Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Who am I?" The old woman moved into view. She hovered over him with a penetrating light shining into his eyes. "What happened to the world?"

"Don't you know?" He shook his head. "They came."

"They? Who?"

"The aliens. What the hell happened to you?"

"I don't know." She moved away from him, but he grabbed her by the arm. "I'm sorry." He let go of her. "You said the aliens?"

"Yes." She sat back down next to him. "We were invaded, and most of us were wiped out." She gnawed on her lip. "The rest of us took shelter underground."

"Under the ground?"

"Yeah. Many of the bridges and railroads have tunnel systems, and they intersect across a lot of major cities."

"Like the Underground Railroad in the nineteenth century, where black slaves used it as safe houses and secret routes."

"You some kind of professor of history?"

"I don't know." He struggled to sit up. "I wish I knew."

"Rest." She pushed him back down against the mattress. "You took quite a hit to the back of your head."

"Lady." A short, bearded man appeared behind her. "Don't talk to him. He could be a traitor or a damn fool, or both."

"Take it easy, Kenny." She moved away from the man lying on the cot. "He doesn't even know who he is." She now stood before the other man. "It's definitely trauma, but I'm not sure as to what kind."

"We should've left him in the tunnel. He could be one of theirs," Kenny hissed. "They don't know that we're down here, but if they find out, what's to stop them from dropping a nuke over our heads?"

"Kenny…"

"Let me kill him, Lady. He could be the enemy."

"He's not harnessed, Kenny. He's not the enemy." Her sharp, blue eyes held his brown-eyed gaze. "He needs help."

"Lady, we have too much at stake. There are too many of us down here for the picking." Kenny glared at the man, who now watched him intently. "Let me move our people down the tunnel to a safer location away from him. Just until we know for sure. Please, lady, give the order." She gnawed on her lip. "We have children down here, and they want our kids for whatever damn reason. Lady, my son is here."

"Son?" The man struggled to sit up. "Son."

"Yeah, the boy that you scared? He was my son." Kenny stepped closer. He studied the man's face. "Do you have a son?" His voice softened. "Is that why you ran toward him like you did?"

"I… I think so. I just don't remember." He fell back against the mattress. "I don't remember." Tears stung his eyes. "I wish I did."

"We can't move everyone, Kenny. We still have wounded, so move who you can including your son." Lady touched Kenny's shoulder. "I'll stay behind."

"Lady." Kenny turned toward her. "We need you."

"I'll be fine." She smiled, a smile that lit the wrinkles below her eyes. "He's not the enemy. He's just a causality like him."

He thought he was the only one lying wounded on the cot. A few rows over, there was a soldier barely breathing. His left leg was gone, and his right arm was badly burned. The man struggled to return his gaze, but his breathing was ragged, sharp. His head was bandaged, and his face was tear-stained.

"What happened to him?"

"They happened to him. They wiped out his whole unit, but it's a miracle that he lived." Kenny led Lady away from him. "I don't like this. Something doesn't feel right about him."

"Keep two of your men behind, but take everyone else. Go, Kenny. Go now, in case you are right." She gingerly kissed him on the cheek. "I leave our people in good hands."

We're at war. The thought brought a chill right down his spine. We're at war. We're fighting for survival because the aliens had won, and if any of our soldiers were still alive, they would be like the poor bastard lying on the bed a few feet away. One thing was for certain. He was not the enemy, but was he a traitor? Was that why he couldn't remember? What did the aliens do to him? That thought chased him down into a long, dark spiral of oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

"What if I don't come with you?"

"We can make you."

She used to be a friend. They used to fight side by side. Then, they took her, and he thought she was dead. It was a relief to know that she was alive, but she was now with them, harnessed, and a puppet to their violin. But who was she, and why did she mean so much to him?

"Tom."

"I have to do this." He turned toward the man standing behind him and was filled with admiration and respect. This was his leader. He could feel it, but who was he to such a man? "I have to do this for my son." He turned back toward the young woman patiently waiting for him to take her by the hand. "I'm sorry," he thought, "but they cannot have my son again."

"Tom!"

A monstrous face appeared before him. Its dark eyes made a silent scream rise up into his throat. Its large hands wrapped around his neck, lifting him off the ground. He struggled to breathe, but he could feel himself slipping away. A sound chilled his ears. The monster was laughing, an unsettling hiss that rattled his nerves, and he struggled to strike at it with his fists. But then the creature threw him aside like a rag doll.

"Skitter!"

He jolted upright. His eyes needed a moment to grow accustomed to the dim lighting. He felt something cold press against the back of his head, and his hand found hers. He tried to speak, but his voice was hoarse. "Skitter," he whispered. "Skitter."

"Sky." The young woman moved quickly away from him. "I told you to let him rest."

"Sorry." As she moved away from him, he spotted three silver quills sticking out of the back of her neck. As if she sensed his gaze, her hand gingerly covered them from his sight. "He was having a nightmare."

"Tom." He wiped the sweat off his brow. "My name is Tom."

"You remember?" Lady walked over to him. She quickly examined him and once again shined that damn light into his eyes. "What else do you remember?"

"I have a son." Tom smiled. "I have a son."

"That explains why you chased the boy. He must have reminded you of your son." She gnawed on her lip. "What else do you remember?"

"I went with the aliens." She backed away from him and motioned for Sky to do the same. "It was the only way." Tom now sat up on the cot and rubbed his face with his hands. "They were going to take him. Again."

"Again?" Lady now fixed her stare on Sky. "Did they succeed?"

"I don't know. Why?" Lady gestured for Sky to now take a seat and began to examine the quills sticking out of her skin. "Why?" He stumbled to his feet. "What does it matter?"

"It matters." Lady now stared intently at him. "We rescued five harnessed kids. I tried like hell to get those damn things off them."

"Ow."

"Sorry, Sky. These three are just stubborn. They won't fall out like the rest." A trickle of blood ran down Sky's back. "We lost three children. Only a young boy and Sky here survived." Her fingers pressed against the skin surrounding the quills. "Hard."

"What?"

"Nothing, Sky. You can go. Go now down the tunnel to where our people wait."

"They don't want me with them. I want to stay with you." Sky remained sitting. "The boy's quills fell out. He's normal. I'm not."

"You look normal," Tom said with a smile. "You were also right. I was having a nightmare. How'd you know?"

"Sky here is our security system." Lady took a gauze pad and wiped the blood off Sky's back. "Ever since she got better, she could sense the skitters a mile away. When our scouting parties go out, she goes with them. In the beginning, it took a lot to get her to talk." Lady patted Sky's face with a gentle hand. "Now, she's a chatterbug. Off with you." Sky slowly slid away out of view. "I don't want them coming back for her. It took a lot for her to return to… Normal, and if they get her again, she won't make it back."

"And the boy that you saved?"

"Alive and well with his parents." Lady now took a seat. She studied Tom, trying to sum up wherever he was friend or foe. "Another parent lost their child when we took the harness off. He blames Sky. She's his scapegoat, and he's made it unbearable for her to be with us. She hides out here, or she goes out up there."

"What happened to him?" Tom now focused on the soldier, who rested in-between consciousness and unconsciousness. "How did you find him?"

"Luck." Lady walked over to the soldier to examine him. "From what we could gather, his unit took on the skitters and the mechs, but they were no match for them. They were slaughtered. He was lucky to have survived, if you call this living." She checked his bandages. "With what antibiotics I have, it's not enough. If I never took an oath, I would put this man out of his misery." She stepped closer to Tom. "Don't make me regret saving you." She left the room.

"Tom," the soldier whispered. "Tom."

"You know me?" The soldier struggled to lift his good arm and held his hand out to him. "Tell me. Who am I?" Tom took his hand, tightening his grip. "Who am I?"

"Captain Weaver. We tried to meet him, but we were ambushed." The soldier swallowed hard. "Tom, what are you doing here?"

"I don't know. I know that I went with the aliens. I didn't have a choice."

"We all have a choice." The soldier pulled Tom closer. "Kill me. Please. I can't live like this. I can't live in pain."

"It's okay. I'll get Lady. She can help."

"No! Damn it, Tom. You're a good man. Do this for me. Please…"

Gunfire erupted out into the hall. Sparks lit up the dark. Ear-piercing screams penetrated through a façade of safety. The skitters had found them, and they were closing in. A bullet struck the wall, inches away from Tom's head.

"You!" Lady limped forward. Sky hovered behind her. "You brought them here. They know that we are here because of you!"

"No." Tom moved away from the soldier. "No, I didn't." He raised his hands up before him. "I swear that I didn't."

"They're tracking him," Sky whispered into her ear. "I can sense them. More are on their way."

"I should kill you." Lady's hand shook as she aimed her gun at Tom's head. "I was such a fool to believe in you."

"Please." Tom took another step forward. "Believe me. I did not bring them here." His eyes now met Sky's gaze. "If I did, it was against my will. I meant you and your people no harm. Look into my eyes. I don't even know who I am." Lady's finger curled around the trigger. "If you want to kill me…" Tom dropped his hands to his side. "Then, go ahead." For a moment there, he thought she would.

"No." Lady lowered her gun. "Sky?"

"Yes?"

"Lead him to the surface, and then get him the hell away from here. If we're lucky, they'll follow him."

"No. No, I'm not leaving you." Sky embraced Lady. "I won't leave you."

"I'm sorry, Sky." Lady hugged her back. "But you have to go. You have to go with him." Tears ran down her face. "I already set the C4. You only have a few minutes left to leave."

"Lady…"

Tom slowly pulled the young girl away from her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she cried. He looked from Lady to the soldier wishing to die, and he got his wish. He would go down fighting one last battle, one last hoorah, and Lady would be another causality of war. They were losing, and they were using him to do it. And he would be damned, if they use him again.

"Go!"

Lady's last word broke him from his reverie. He pulled Sky out into the corridor, which was partly blown apart. The hole above them gaped eagerly, waiting to chew them up with broken, sharp pavement teeth. He turned toward Lady one last time, who slowly nodded at him. This was how it had to be. The black box waited in her hand, and she would wait for the skitters to get closer. He had to go, and he would take Sky with them. She didn't need to know or see what was going to happen next.

"I'm sorry." Tom lifted Sky up into his arms and slowly made it up and out onto the surface. "I'm sorry."

"You don't understand," Sky whispered into his ear. "You just ended mankind."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

Laughter. Laughter was the bell in the dark. Its heart would warm even the darkest tragedy, and she was beautiful when she smiled. His lips met hers, and his nightmare faded away. He laughed like the world never ended. He laughed and held her face in his hands.

Anne. His fingers drifted through her long, brown hair. Her skin felt soft under his touch. How could he forget her? A stethoscope hung around her neck, and she listened to his heart. A frown creased her beautiful face, and she tried again to hear his love for her. Instead, there was nothing, and the laughter was gone, replaced by fear. And instead of smiling, she began to scream like she had seen a terrible nightmare, but all that she was looking at was him.

Tom's eyes flashed open. A glint of sunlight bounced off metal, and he grabbed the hilt of the knife before it plunged into his arm. He threw his assailant to the side and swiftly swung on top of them, holding the person down. His angry gaze settled over Sky, who stared up at him in defiance.

"Let go of me!" Sky struggled under his hold. "Let go!"

"You trying to kill me? Hmmmm. Are you?"

"If I wanted you dead, I would've aimed for your heart not the arm." Tom slowly released his grip on her. "They put something in your arm."

"We've been over this, Sky." He moved away from her. She sat up on the bed. "They didn't harness me."

"No, you're different." She swung her legs over the bed but remained sitting. "When I'm with you, my senses are dampened. I should've have known those skitters were there."

"You can't blame yourself." He saw the pain in her eyes. He leaned up against the wall and sighed deeply. "It's not your fault."

"If they didn't tag you, then how did they know about the underground? They never looked there before. Ever. Until you came, Tom, and then suddenly they were there. And Lady and that poor soldier are dead because of it." Tears now ran freely down her face. "If they didn't tag you, then why are you so afraid of finding others? We know that there are survivors up here. We've seen them, but they are bent on fighting our enemy. We're trying to survive." She swallowed hard. "We tried to survive."

"Sky, it's only been a few days. We'll keep moving, and maybe, maybe we'll find someone out here."

"And kill them." She wiped her tears aside in anger. "You going with them may have been honorable, but they are far from it." She stormed past him, but he grabbed her by the arm. "What?"

"Calm down." He glanced at his bandaged arm. "If you're right, then we'll find someone to take this thing out of me. We'll find Anne."

"Anne? Who the hell is Anne?"

"A doctor, and she's alive. I know it, so we will find her."

"I hope so." Sky moved closer to him. "Before they do." She stepped away.

"Hey, what city are we in anyway?"

"We're in Boston."

"Boston?" Tom rubbed his beard. "I was wondering why I had Massachusetts stuck in my head."

A few hours later, Tom and Sky were back on the road. The sun beat down against their shadows. The wind dared not stir. Quiet became vicious, and any sound would mean that it was too late. And the world remained gone, abandoned with no hope here, but they were alive. So, there was still hope.

"We need to find food and water soon." Sky did not answer. "You haven't slept a lot since…"

"The skitter attack? No. I really don't sleep." She gingerly touched the three quills on the back of her neck. "Not anymore."

"Do they hurt?" She looked at him, and he gestured toward the quills that stuck out of her skin. "How long have you worn the harness?"

"They took me shortly after they arrived." She continued to move across the road. "Lady said my harness was different, but she wasn't sure as to why." Her lip trembled. "I still remember the white sheets draped over the children that didn't make it. A lot of people hated the fact that I was one of the two that survived, but I guess that's fate. Do you believe in fate?" She met his gaze. "Forget it."

"Yes, I believe in fate."

A buzzing sound reached his ears. He lifted a finger to his mouth, gesturing for Sky to move off the road. He dove behind some bushes as the buzzing grew louder, and he realized that it was a motorcycle. Part of him wanted to greet whoever was riding the machine, but that would be foolish. They could easily be friend or foe, probably foe, and if they weren't, was Sky right? Would he lead the skitters to whoever he met next?

A teenager rode by on a motorcycle. His dark, brown eyes rained with sadness, anger. His brown hair swayed in the breeze. He had a penetrating stare like a man on a mission, and then he was gone. But his absence was a blade that struck deep into his heart kind of like Sky's knife. "Hal?"

"What?"

"Nothing." Tom shook his head. "I… I thought I knew that boy. He reminded me of someone. Come on." He helped Sky to her feet. "It's going to be dark soon, and we need to find shelter."

"Another vacant house?"

"No, that boy came from this direction. I say that we will follow the road and see where it leads." They moved back onto the road. "Maybe we'll find her."

"Who?"

"Anne." His heart quickened. Yes, he needed to find her. He wanted to see her again, touch her skin, her hair, and her mouth. He loved her, and he knew that she loved him. Yes, he would find her, and she would save him. Then, he would make things right and return to the underground to save those that he had endangered. "Hold on, Anne," he whispered. "I'm coming home."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

What if the world never ended? The wind rustled through the trees like a long lost friend. The sun bathed the flowers in warmth, love. Tall grass swayed like hands waving hello and good-bye. The road was long but not dark with fear but light with hope. There was no end. There was only the beginning and the chapters to come, so what secrets would the next page hold? What would fate write?

Hours had washed away in lost thought. Footsteps echoed across the bridge of silence. Gentle gazes took in the world around them, noticing that nature was alive and well, and she seemed unaware of the turmoil that surrounded her. Stomachs talked of hunger, and hearts whispered to be saved. But was anyone left to save the two companions now walking side by side?

"Did you know that East Boston was connected to the rest of the city by underwater tunnels?"

"You don't remember who you are, but you remember history?" Tom shrugged in response. "You must have been a teacher."

"Professor. I think." Tom smiled. "I do love history." His smile faded. "I just worry more now about our future. Where do we go from here?"

"Looks like a warehouse." Sky stood at the edge of the road, looking down. "I wonder what's inside." Her eyes widened with fear. "Oh, crap."

Tom dropped to his knees as if a fist had slammed into his stomach. His head spun around. He reached for Sky but fell forward, throwing up as he went down. He tried to move, but his body screamed in pain. It felt like somebody was killing him.

"Tom!" Sky now held him in her arms. "What is it? What?"

"I… I don't know." Tears stung his eyes as he struggled to breathe. "What did you see?"

"Skitters. Mechs. Harnessed kids." She swallowed hard. "They're swarming the place."

"We… We need to get away from here." Sky helped him to his feet, but he was weak. He could barely stand. "We need to move away. Now."

Gunfire erupted behind them. Sky almost dropped Tom, but then she caught him. She lowered him to the ground and slowly peered back down the road toward the warehouse. Her eyes fell upon a small group of people, whose bullets took the mechs down, and one of them held a net and aimed it at a skitter. She looked for the harnessed kids, but they were gone, whisked away in the heat of battle. And a stone fell into her heart.

"Come on." She helped Tom to his feet. "They're distracted, so we'll make a run for it."

John Pope turned toward the road. He looked up to see two people slowly move away. The girl he did not know, but the man was familiar. His stare followed their movements, and then he realized who he was looking at. He forgot all about the skitter that they had just captured, and he screamed out one word, "Professor!"

"Dad!"

Hal jumped on his motorcycle and floored it. He tore down the road, spiraling around to catch up to the two, who now stopped to look at them. Tears stung his eyes, but he wiped them away. His heart quickened. He knew that someway, somehow, he would find him. He would save his father and then hopefully save Karen.

Sky continued to walk with Tom, who slowly felt better. The motorcycle crossed into her path, but she didn't back away. Instead, she stared at the young man, who hardly looked at her. He was staring at Tom like a son would a father, but Tom did not return his gaze. He only wanted to leave and not look back.

"Dad?"

"I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

"It's me. Hal." He moved closer, but Tom now backed away. "I'm your son."

"Son? No. No, my son is younger than you."

"Dad, you have three sons. Me, Ben, and Matt." Now, he looked at Sky. "What did you do to him?"

"Me? I didn't do anything. The aliens did." He looked at the back of her neck, seeing her quills. "Look." She covered the three quills with her hand. "My people saved him. They tried to save him." She stared at Tom, who looked from her to Hal. "The skitters found us, and we had to run."

"Well, you're not running anywhere, sweetheart." Pope stepped into view. "We're taking the professor back with us. You're welcome to come along." He reached toward the shaken man standing nearby. "Come on, Tom. Anne's been worried sick."

"Anne," Tom whispered. "I remember Anne." Hal looked hurt at this. "I don't remember you." His words cut Hal deeper.

"He's not going anywhere." Sky stepped in-between Pope and Tom. "The aliens did something to him."

"No shit," Pope said.

"Look, genius, they put a tracker in him, in his arm." She gestured toward Tom's bandaged arm. "That's how they found my people. We had to destroy part of our tunnel to save the rest."

"Tunnel?" Hal now focused on her. "What tunnel?"

"They lived underground." Tom wiped his brow. "It's how they survived until I came along. Sky's right. If the aliens are tracking me, then taking me back with you is a bad idea. The skitters will find you, and they will kill you."

"Not if we kill them first." He noticed the rest of his group standing back with a netted skitter. "We found ways of making them talk, and they've been acting quite differently since they took you, professor. We need to know why. Now, let's go."

"No." Sky refused to budge between Pope and Tom, but Pope grabbed her and tossed her to the side. "He's dangerous."

"Listen, girlie, I couldn't give a crap what you think or what you say. This man here is coming with us, like it or not, and I couldn't give a crap about leaving you behind."

Sky lunged toward him, but Hal grabbed her from behind. She wrestled against his grip, but he held her still. His breath tickled her ear, and he looked from her to his father. His father returned his gaze as if a stranger waiting on the corner for a cab, and he shook his head. What did they do to him?

"Please." Tom backed away from Pope. "Don't. I can't be responsible, if the skitters attack your people. I can't. There has to be another way, a safe house, where I could wait until this tracker is out of my arm." Pope looked over at Hal, who still held Sky in his grasp. "Please."

"Pope."

"What?"

"My name, Tom, is John Pope, and that's your son, Hal." He pointed at the young man. "Okay." He looked at his small group and gestured for them to start moving, but some continued to stare at Tom. "Go," he yelled at them, and they disappeared from sight. "I know a place up the road, where you'll be safe. I'll get Anne, and we'll get that damn tracker out of your arm. How does that sound?"

"Good."

"Good." Pope punched him in the face, knocking him to the ground. "Sorry, professor, but that's a dumb plan." He watched Tom lose consciousness. He looked over at Sky. "Last chance. Stay or come with us?"

"You don't know what you're doing."

"Suit yourself, girlie." He gestured for Hal to let her go. "You can stay behind." He and Hal lifted Tom up and leaned him over the motorcycle. "Can you drive this thing with him on it?"

"Yeah."

"Then, go." Hal took off down the road without a second glance back and with Tom in tow.

"See ya later." Pope turned away and started walking down the road.

"Wait!" Sky bit her lip. "Fine. I'll go with you. You're going to need my help." She stormed ahead of him. "Genius," she muttered.

"Whatever you say, beautiful." Pope laughed like he had won a great victory, and he did. "I'm bringing the professor home," he softly sung, but a cold breeze made him stop suddenly. A chill raced down his spine. "I hope she's not right," he muttered as he disappeared around the bend, following the rest of his group.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

"I come in peace."

Harsh, penetrating lights bore down like an unforgiving sun. Sweat and fear traced across flesh. Restraints bit down deep, slicing hope. Water swayed across the walls, moving to the beat of the vibrating floor. Surrender was the cylinder prism holding the man that fought against the impossible, but the war was lost. And he would just be another causality.

"I came in peace." Tom's voice was hoarse like sandpaper, and he was dying of thirst. "I came on my own free will!"

"We know." He recognized Karen's voice and tried desperately to see through the blinding lights. "We were going to take you anyway."

"Why?"

"Because, Tom, you know so much, and we need to know." The lights dimmed. She gently touched his hand. A smile traced her lips. "We need to know where you came from, what makes you tick, and what traits could prove useful." She moved closer, so close that her body brushed against his. "So, that we could finally and once and for all exterminate you."

"No!" He fought against his restraints, but his body refused to fight. Tears ran freely down his face, and his heart sunk deeper. "No! That's not why I came here!"

"We don't care why you came here. You're a threat, and you and your kind have to be dealt with."

"Karen, please. Please. Look at me. Hear me. I know that you are in there somewhere." She stepped away. "You love Hal, and he loves you." She froze at that. "Save me."

"Why?" Emotion faded away in a blink of an eye. "Why? So, you could declare war on other countries? Have another world war? We've received your signals that you sent out into space, and that is why we came here. We came here to rescue this world from what you have done to it. You have raped this planet, tortured it, and murdered thousands, millions for senseless reasons, so we sentence you. We sentence you to death."

"We have a right to prove ourselves." Tom leaned forward. "Nobody made you our judge, jury, or executioner."

"You're right about one thing, Tom." She made a slight gesture with her hand, and two skitters brought an unconscious child into the room. She watched them lay the boy on his stomach, and she knelt toward the floor. Her hand pressed against the warm vibrations, and a harness appeared through a compartment. She lifted it up and held it toward Tom. "Children are the future."

"No," Tom whispered. He watched in horror as Karen carried the harness like a mother would a child, and the skitters ripped open the boy's shirt. "No!" The harness plunged down like a hungry caterpillar, and the boy jerked violently, waking up in terror. "No!" The boy screamed in sync with his, and then it was all over. "No," Tom cried.

"There, there, Tom." Karen's face was inches from his. "It's now your turn."

Tom screamed, writhing in pain. It felt like a thousand hands holding him down. He tried to talk but choked on his tongue. His feet kicked at the air but then was pressed down hard. He couldn't open his eyes, but he didn't want to look. He was their prisoner, and fear was eating him alive.

"Hold him down," Anne Glass yelled at those around her.

"I thought you sedated him."

"I did." Anne glared at Captain Weaver. "If I give him anymore, I will kill him." Tom continued to convulse under their hands. "I don't know what to do for him." Tears shined in her eyes. "I don't."

"Okay." Captain Weaver continued to hold Tom down. His gaze moved over to those standing by the door. He looked from Hal to Matt and then over to Ben and Rick. He looked at Dai and Anthony. "Okay. Everyone, clear out." The people in the hallway slowly moved away, but Weaver's attention remained with Tom's sons. "Go. You don't need to be here. As soon as we have this under control, I'll come get you." Hal slowly nodded, but Matt and Ben refused to move. "It's okay." Weaver smiled at them. "Your father will be okay."

"No, he won't." Ben left the room, followed by Rick.

"Come get us when you can." Hal led Matt out of the room.

"I will." Weaver watched the door close behind them. "Doc, we have to get that thing out of his arm."

"Wait a moment." Anne stared down at Tom. "The convulsions are stopping."

"What did you do?"

"I don't know." She checked Tom's pulse. "Maybe the drugs are finally kicking in." Dai, Anthony, and Weaver released Tom from their hold. "Okay." She picked up a pair of scissors and cut through Tom's bandage. Then, she slowly lifted up a scalpel but stopped right above his skin.

"You can do this." She looked over at Weaver. "We're here. Whatever you need to do, let's do it."

"Okay." She tried to smile, but she was terrified. "Okay."

The scalpel slipped into Tom's arm. Blood flowed over the wooden table. Tom's body twitched, threatening to convulse, but he remained unconscious, which was a good thing. His skin was pulled away to reveal something that looked almost like a watch, but it hummed. And it glowed like a bomb ready to go off.

Anne's hand shook as she poked through the wires that wrapped around Tom's nerves. If she cut wrong, she could paralyze him, he could lose his arm, or he could die. She just got him back. She wasn't ready for this, but if Sky was right, then the skitters and mechs were on their way. And they were running out of time.

"Tom might say, 'Which wire to cut? The blue or the red?' Which one, doc?" Dai looked nervous, but they were all afraid. They were afraid of losing Tom again. "Which one?"

"Let her work," Weaver shushed him. "Just let her work."

Anne cut one wire. Nothing. She slowly pulled it out of Tom's arm, and its hum went dead. She cut another one, and Tom jerked violently. But they were ready to hold him down and let her get back to work, and she did, cutting another wire. Finally, all the wires were severed, but now she had to pull that thing, that circular, black thing out of his arm. "This is going to hurt." She looked up at Weaver. "Hold him down as hard as you can." She put the scalpel to the side and reached into Tom's arm. Her breath caught in her throat as if the thing were a rabid dog ready to bite. Her fingers wrapped around it, and she pulled it out. And as she did, Tom started to convulse. "Tom?" She dropped the thing onto the floor, and Weaver brought his foot down upon it, hard. And a sickening crunch was heard. "Tom?"

"He stopped breathing." Anthony checked Tom's pulse.

"No, you are not going to die on me. Do you hear me?" Anne nearly jumped on top of him, starting CPR. "You are not going to die on me!" She breathed into his mouth. The men around her stepped back. "Come on, Tom. Come on." She stopped with the compressions and again breathed into his mouth. "Come on!" Tom coughed. "That's it. That's it." She pushed her hair out of her face. "Breathe, Tom. Breathe."

"Anne." He struggled to open his eyes. "Anne. I love you." He passed out, but he was breathing.

Anne and Weaver stared at each other. She slowly crawled off Tom. Tears were now running down her face. Her gloved hands were red with Tom's blood, but she still wiped her face. That was close. That was too damn close, but did the skitters and mechs know their location? Did they run out of time?

"You okay?" Weaver stood closely behind her.

"Yeah. I need to close up his arm. He can't get an infection, not after this." She returned back to work. "Thank you." She looked at Weaver. "Thank you." She now turned toward Dai and Anthony. "We got him back." She laughed despite her terror. "We got you back, Tom."

"That we did." Weaver gestured for the other two men to leave the room. "You still need me?"

"No." She smiled at him. "I got him." Weaver smiled but looked at Tom in concern. "Thank you."

"I'll find his boys, and I'll tell them that he'll be okay." Weaver moved for the door. "Take care of him, Anne." He left the room.

"I will." Anne touched Tom's face. "I will." She slowly kissed his lips. "I love you too," she whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six:

Morning. Sunlight streamed in through small, glass windows, falling across the floor. A gentle breeze swayed and danced across the room. The scent of flowers was the sweet aroma of a garden somewhere near. A squeak of a chair moving close, and the springs of a mattress echoed to the movements of body. And eyes slowly opened, hoping to find an ounce of peace.

"Dad?" Hal sat in a chair beside Tom's bed. "Dad?"

"Hal?" His son smiled. Maybe his father did finally remember him. "You're my son, right?"

"You still don't remember?" His smile was now gone.

"Bits and pieces." Tom struggled to sit up in bed. "It's slowly coming back."

"Or so you hope." Hal rose from his chair. "It doesn't matter." He slowly hugged his father. "We got you back." He moved away from him. "We got you back." He held back his tears.

"How's our patient today?" Anne walked into the small hospital room. She noted the blank look on Tom's face and the sad expression on Hal's. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." Hal stormed past her. "He's finally awake."

"Hal?" He left the room. "Tom, how are you feeling?" She slowly moved over to his bed. "Any headaches? Tremors?"

"No." Tom watched Anne examine him. "Why's he so angry?"

"You don't remember him." She checked his pulse. "He's your son, and you don't remember him."

"I remember you." She paused as he touched her hand. "I don't know why, but I do."

"You said you loved me." He slowly nodded. "You love your sons a great deal. That's why you surrendered, but it's them that you should be remembering." She moved away from him. "Not me."

"Dad." Ben stood in the doorway. He looked from Anne to Tom. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah." She smiled at him. "I'll give you two a moment."

"Anne." She didn't answer Tom but left the room. "Ben?" His son nodded. "I think I remember you. I think I do." He gestured for him to come closer and held his arms open for him.

"Dad!" Ben ran toward him and embraced him.

It felt like lightning coursing through his body. Tom slumped backward and started to convulse. His eyes rolled up into his head, and he started to choke on his tongue. He tried to say something, do something, but his body failed him. And his son screamed for Anne.

"What happened?" Anne rushed toward Tom, but Ben couldn't answer her. He watched his father convulse violently. "Ben?"

"I… I just hugged him." He backed away toward the door. "I just hugged him."

The convulsions slowed down. As Ben took one step and another away from Tom, the convulsions grew slower and slower. Fear gripped him with realization as Anne understood also what was taking place. Tears now ran down his face, and his lips trembled. He got his father back, but he lost him again. He lost him, and with that thought, Ben ran from the room.

"Ben!" Anne now held Tom in her arms. "It's okay, Tom." She touched his face. "It's okay." A tear ran down her face. "Ben," she whispered. "Oh, no."

Ben ran into Rick in the hallway. He moved away from him and burst into tears. He shook his head and slammed his fist into the wall. He could've sworn that he left a dent behind, but he felt no pain, only anger. "Damn it," he cursed.

"I'm sorry."

"You knew?" He glared at Rick and then grabbed him by the front of his shirt. "Did you know?"

"I suspected." Ben released him. "I'm sorry."

"I lost him," Ben cried. "I lost my father." Rick patted his shoulder. "It's not fair," he screamed.

"Ben, they need us. Can you pull yourself together?" Ben slowly nodded. "Good. Then, let's go."

Sky stepped into view. She looked at the open door leading into Tom's room. Her attention then turned toward the two boys standing toe to toe. She took another step forward, but Rick spun around toward her. And she froze in mid-step.

"Rick? What's wrong?" Ben looked from him to Sky. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Rick looked over his shoulder at him. "You go ahead. I'll be right there." Ben slowly stepped away. "Go on." He forced a smile. "Nothing's wrong." His attention returned to Sky.

"Okay." Ben disappeared down the hall.

"Something wrong?" Sky gingerly moved toward him.

"Yeah, I know." He held her gaze. "I know."

"You don't know anything." He moved away from her. "I'm not a threat."

"You're not one of us." He walked away from her.

"Tom? Tom?"

"What… What happened?" He was lying on his back, and pain screamed throughout his body. "Why does it hurt so bad?" He tried to breathe. "Ben? Where's Ben?" He tried to sit up but then slumped backward.

"He had to leave." Anne pushed him back down. "You need to rest. You just had a bad convulsion."

"From what?" Anne looked away. "Anne?" She slowly turned to look at him with tears in her eyes. "From what?"

"I think it was Ben."

"No."

"He was harnessed, Tom. Remember? He could still be changing, and maybe you're having a reaction to that."

"No."

"I'm sorry." She saw the tears in his eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"Anne, can we talk about something else? I… I can't. I can't right now with Ben. It hurts too much." Anne slowly nodded. "Talk to me about something else."

"Sky."

"What about her?"

"She's not eating. She's not sleeping. She's wandering the halls late at night, and she won't let me near her. She's making people uncomfortable."

"I'll talk to her. I'll get her to let you examine her."

"I don't think she's like Ben and Rick."

"Rick?"

"Mike's son. He was harnessed too." Tom rubbed his face. "Maybe it would be better, if he didn't go near you either. Sky can go near you, which tells me that she is not like them."

"She said her harness was different."

"How?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "Sometimes, she doesn't talk at all, so I'm not sure."

"I need to examine her, understand why she only has three of those quills."

"Okay. I'll talk to her."

"No. First, you need to get some rest." She kissed his forehead. "Then, you eat something, and then you'll talk to her."

"Yes, doctor." He smiled fondly at her. "Whatever you say."

Sky stood outside the door. She heard everything. She slowly rubbed the back of her neck, pricking a finger on one of her quills. She looked at the spot of blood on her finger and licked it. She didn't realize that someone was standing behind her.

"It's not polite to eavesdrop," Captain Weaver said. "Shouldn't you be getting some rest?"

"Isn't it impolite to sneak up on someone?" She now faced him. "And no, I don't need to rest."

"I can see the bags under your eyes, Sky. You need to sleep."

"I can't." She moved away from him, but he grabbed her by the arm. "Do you mind?"

"I think you need to see Anne."

"No, I don't."

"What are you so afraid of?" He held her gaze. "What do you see when you sleep?" She pulled her arm away from him. "Do you see the aliens? Do you remember what they did to you?" She touched her neck. "If you're a threat, then I need to know."

"Do I look like a threat?"

"No. You just look like somebody that needs to sleep, so I suggest that you go into that room and see Anne. Don't make me force you."

"Do you know what it's like?"

"What?"

"Being alive and knowing that you'll never see your family again?" Weaver looked at his feet. "Yeah, so no, I'm not seeing your doctor. I just want to be left alone." She stormed away from him.

"You can't keep going like this, Sky," Weaver yelled after her. "You can't." Anne stepped into the hallway and looked at him. "We're going to have a problem with her."

"I was afraid of that," Anne said.

Sky kept walking. She heard what Weaver and Anne said and knew that she was running out of time. Rick knew, but she wasn't surprised. It would have to be done tonight, and if she survived, maybe she could escape. Or maybe, if they didn't understand, they would just kill her. Maybe, it would be better that way, and then she could finally sleep, sleep for all eternity.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven:

Enemy. The lines of good and evil were always finely defined in the illustrated pages of comic books and graphic novels. High school bullies would always be the unforgettable, either breaking or building who we were to become. There would always be adversaries, even the asshole at work. The worst foe is the one bent on our annihilation, the one to never reason with, and the one that would live in victory or die in defeat in the final battle, and sometimes, evil would bury the good that resides deep within us. But the very worst is the friend turned betrayer turned enemy, and most of the time, we never see them coming.

"Why do we always pick schools?" Matt soaked the rope in front of him, dipping it into a tray of chemicals. "Can't we find some other place to go to? Maybe a house with a real bed?" Pope laughed as he stood behind him, polishing mech bullets. "I'm serious."

"What? You don't like school?" Matt refused to smile or laugh. "Have you seen your father yet?"

"Why? He doesn't remember me." He twirled the rope around with his finger. "Are you using this on the skitter that we caught?"

"Matt." Pope turned the boy toward him and knelt down, so his face was a few inches from his. "He's your father. He'll remember you."

"I don't want him to remember." Matt stormed away from him. "It's better, if he doesn't remember."

"Matt, he's your father."

"And you're not." Pope stood up from the floor. "Why make him remember the aliens? Why make him remember mom?" Matt started to cry. "He's been through enough."

"Matt." Pope took a step toward him, but then his gaze shifted over to the doorway, where Sky stood, watching them. "What do you want?"

"Nothing." Matt pushed past her, disappearing down the hall. "I just heard all the commotion."

"Did you now?" Pope quickly placed the mech bullets into a black, leather pouch. "Well, girlie, there is nothing to see or to hear, so why don't you be on your merry way?"

"What are you doing? Making weapons?" She took a step into the room. "Are you going to kill that skitter that you caught?"

"It's none of your business." He turned toward the tray and lifted up the rope. "It's interesting, though. The metal from the mechs makes quite a bullet, but if you melt it down completely, it's like acid." He threw her the rope, and she caught it. "It burns the skitters right through their skin, which is how we caught it."

"Like your net." She threw him back the rope.

"How's your hand?" She opened her hand to see that it was red like scolding hot water had washed over her skin, but then she closed it into a fist. "I'm starting to figure you out."

"Don't waste your time, Pope." Sky slowly backed away from him. "You won't come close."

"You're not like the other harnessed kids." She took another step away from him. "You're something else entirely, something new, and you want to know something?"

"What?" She looked over her shoulder at him.

"I'm watching you."

"Well, Pope, it's like you said. There is nothing to see or to hear, so I'll be on my merry way." She left the room but knew that he was still standing there with the rope in hand and his eyes burning into her back.

"Are you ready?"

"What?"

"Ben, are you ready?"

Rick and Ben sat before the cage. The skitter was anxious, sensing their plan. The soldiers stood at the ready behind them, waiting to fire, if something went wrong. Weaver smiled at both, patiently waiting, but he too was growing restless. They needed answers, and they needed them now. As if the two boys picked up on that, they resumed staring at their enemy, digging deep into its mind, and it screamed for them to stop. But Ben most of all needed to know what they had done to his father and why.

"He was being punished," Ben said out loud, which he had not meant to do.

"Ben, that wasn't the question for us to ask." Rick looked from him to Weaver. "We need to know their plans, their next move."

"Ben." He slowly looked up at Weaver. "I hate what they did to your father as much as you, and I want to know why they punished him. But we need that first question answered. What is their next move?"

"I'm sorry." Ben focused on the skitter, who hissed at him in response. "They're building. Towers. Watch towers."

"Watch towers?" Weaver rubbed his chin. "For what?"

"This is their world now," Rick said. "They're not leaving."

"Like hell they're not," a soldier muttered.

The skitter screamed and struck its cage. Both boys jumped to their feet and moved back. The skitter reached toward them, hissing and spitting. Its dark eyes fell on the guns pointed at it, but it didn't care. It just wanted to kill them.

"How do you like it?" Ben approached the cage. "How do you like someone messing with your mind?"

"Ben," Rick whispered.

"Why did you punish my father? Why!" His eyes held the skitter's. "He was a threat? Well, wait until I crack your head open."

The skitter lunged toward him, but Weaver moved Ben back. Its arms reached through the bars, barely missing the boy. It screamed and spat at them. Its eyes narrowed, darkened, and it glared at Ben as if he were nothing more than an ant.

"Okay." Weaver patted Ben on the back. "Okay. Let's take a break and come back in twenty." He led the boys out of the room, and three soldiers followed them, leaving only one soldier behind.

Sky pressed her back against the wall, blending into shadow as they left the room. She could sense the skitter's anguish, its rage, and she knew only one guard remained. It was now or never, but part of her hesitated. She cursed herself for being so weak, but for the most part, she was human. Forcing herself forward, she slipped into the room and confronted the guard.

"What do you want?"

"I wanted to see the alien."

"What?"

She moved fast, sending her fist into his face, and knocking him down, unconscious. Blood pumped through her veins, and with cat-like reflexes, she moved over to the cage. She had grabbed the key off the unconscious man and now had it place, turning it to the left, and the lock popped open. And the skitter eagerly waited to be released.

"It's okay," Sky said. "It's okay." She scratched the back of her neck. "I'm here for you." The door was now open, but the skitter seemed almost afraid of her. It sensed something, but it wasn't sure what. "It's okay."

Sky pulled the third quill out of her back. It was a long, ugly dagger. She held it tightly in her hand and reached for the skitter. It slowly came toward her, trusting her, and then she slammed the quill straight into its heart. She held the skitter as it screamed, but then it split in half, covering her in black goo.

Pope entered the room. He watched the hole in Sky's back slowly close up. Blood and black goo covered her skin, and her dark eyes held his. She took a step toward him, but his gun was now aimed at her head. She smiled, daring him to fire, and he smiled back. "I got you," he said.

"Do you?" Anne and Weaver now appeared behind him. "Fine. You got me." She noticed a syringe in Anne's hand. "I surrender, so there's no need for that."

"I beg to differ," Weaver said.

Sky hissed and lunged at Pope, knocking the gun out of his hand. She leaped for the door, but Weaver caught her. She wrestled with him, but then Pope grabbed her and pinned her down. She hissed again as Anne drew closer, and she tried to force both men off of her, but it was too late. The needle slipped into her skin.

"No," Sky screamed. "No! I don't want to be… Human," a word that spiraled down into a cold, unforgiving darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight:

The world was lying in hush. Morning had barely awoken. The birds would not sing, and the trees would not bow. Uncertainty covered the day, and doubt and fear clung to stirring minds. Fate hung in the breeze. Who would live today, and who die tomorrow?

"Hey. What's going on?" Tom walked into the Science laboratory. He looked from Anne to Weaver, and then he glanced over at Pope. "I heard about Sky." He watched them exchange a look. "You should've told me, Anne."

"You didn't see her, doc," Pope said. "She went all Species on us." Tom glared at him. "Don't you worry. She's sleeping pretty now." Tom took a step toward him. "Don't blame me. Blame her." He gestured over to Anne.

"Tom, you shouldn't be out of bed."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

"And how would you know that, Pope?"

"Because you can't even hug your own son."

Tom lunged for him, but Weaver intervened. "Tom. Pope, knock it off."

"Fine." Pope moved past Tom. "But you have my decision." He left the room.

"Decision?" Tom stared at Weaver. "What decision?"

"We should tell him," Anne said to Weaver. "He should know."

"What?" He noticed the microscope in front of Anne. She was analyzing something, something that brought fear to her eyes. "It's about Sky, isn't it?"

"Yeah. She's not human, Tom."

"Well, she is, and she isn't." Anne stepped back from the microscope. "Take a look for yourself."

Tom leaned into the microscope and stared at the slide held in place. It was a blood sample, Sky's blood sample. Little, black bugs were attacking her white cells and devouring the red. He felt sick at the image and slowly lifted his gaze up toward those standing nearby. Anne's eyes said it all.

"This was taken an hour ago." She switched the slides. "Now, look."

"They're not moving." To Tom, the little, black bugs appeared dead. "What did you do?"

"We put her to sleep." He stared at Weaver. "Pope's right. She's becoming too alien for us." He glanced at Anne, rubbing his chin. "We have to decide on what to do with her."

"What aren't you telling me?" He looked at Anne and Weaver. "What?"

"It's like she reset. She's more human now." Anne glanced at Weaver. "She won't talk to us. She won't eat. Instead, she's either crying or just sitting in a corner. What we saw is completely gone."

"Not completely," Weaver corrected her. "Anne here has a theory."

"Well, let's hear it." Tom crossed his arms over his chest.

"I originally told you that she was not eating or sleeping." Tom nodded. "I think that's because of whatever it is in her blood. If we can get her to go to sleep like a normal human being, then maybe that would be enough to suppress whatever she is."

"She's a sleeper."

"What?"

"It's like a sleeper cell." Tom turned toward Weaver. "They go dormant until woken up." He shook his head. "Let me talk to her."

"No."

"Captain?"

"I said no, and that's an order."

"Well, I don't take orders from you, sir." Weaver laughed. "What's so damn funny?"

"Nothing, Tom. I'm just happy you're back." He tapped him against the arm. "Always going against my orders or questioning them. Now, if only we could get your memory back and you could hug your son again."

"That would be nice." Tom smiled at him. "So?" Weaver sighed. "Have a guard with me, if it makes you feel better."

"You bet your ass it will, so let's go. I'll be your guard." He nodded toward Anne and then led Tom out of the room.

"Good luck," Anne whispered.

Sky was locked in a small office. She crawled into a ball on the couch. Her back was to the window, to the warm sun trying to wash her pain away. She felt weak, human, and she hated that feeling. She hated feeling, but they put her to sleep. Now, she would have to wait until she woke up again.

The door slowly opened. Tom and Weaver walked in. Tom gave her a friendly smile, but Weaver remained firm, cold. She could sense his doubt and fear, and she didn't blame him. She was, after all their enemy.

"Are you hungry?" Tom set a plate down near her with a sandwich and a glass of milk. "I got this for you." He took a seat in a chair across from her, but Weaver remained standing with his fingers itching for his gun. "I heard what happened."

"Then, there is nothing to tell." She barely glanced at the food. "You may as well just kill me. It would be better for you."

"I know you're hurting, Sky." Tom held her gaze. "Look what they did to me. I can only imagine what they did to you, but why did the aliens make you different?"

"The skitters didn't make me anything." Sky glanced at the sandwich. "The others did."

"Others," Weaver asked.

"You've seen them. The other aliens."

"What do they want," Tom asked.

"This world."

"Why," Weaver demanded.

"I don't know why. They're very secretive." She slowly reached for half a sandwich and held it in her hands. "I hate what I am." It was tuna fish, one of her old past-time favorites. "I'm weak."

"Sky. Look at me." She stared up at Tom. "You're not weak, okay? We'll figure something out." He heard Weaver mutter something under his breath. "But you need to sleep." He watched her nibble on the bread. "You need to eat."

"Doesn't matter." She lowered the sandwich from her mouth.

"Yes, it does."

"No, it doesn't." She looked at Weaver. "Pope told you what he saw?"

"Yeah. He told me." Tom now looked at him. "Sky pulled one of those quills right out of her back and killed the skitter with it. The hole in her back healed a moment later."

"I declared war on them. Whether I stay human or become alien, it doesn't matter." She threw the sandwich back into the plate. "I declared war on them, and they know what I've done. And they won't forget that." She looked from Tom to Weaver. "I'm good as dead next time I meet them, and your people already see me as a traitor and enemy. So, why don't you just kill me?"

"I would like to."

"Weaver…"

"But maybe you could help us." He glanced at Tom. "Tell us what you know."

"What I know?" Sky laughed and picked up the half of sandwich again. "What I know is that they won't stop until they kill us all." She took a bite out of her sandwich. "That's what I know."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine:

A strange hum penetrated through the darkness. Fear dripped down dark walls. The cries of loss echoed through the air. White sheets lifted up like gentle wings and fluttered down to those lost in war, ripped from harness. Bitterness was a sharp-edged sword, and it begged for blood, her blood. Why did she get to live, and why did they have to die? And metal met skin, slicing her apart.

Sky sat up on the couch, drenched in sweat. Tears stung her eyes, but she fought against the wave of sorrow threatening to break her. She was human, so the nightmares came. And she was still trapped behind a locked door and a soldier standing out front. Death would be a welcome embrace, but they denied her that. Now, she had to suffer through darkness, nightmares, and enemies, but these people were not her enemy. They were survivors, soldiers, but she was a threat to them. Maybe it would be better, if she just left.

The window was locked. She could break the glass, but that would cause the soldier to come in full force. She struggled to force the window open, but she wasn't strong enough. She needed that alien half to wake up, so she could escape. She wasn't ready to surrender, and she closed her eyes, breathing slowly. And then she heard that hum.

A warmth trickled down her back. Fear was the icy chill that followed. She slowly reached behind her and touched that second quill, feeling its heat. Her alien half heard her call, and it answered. It was now or never, so she returned to the window. With a quick flick of the wrist, it launched opened, and she knocked out the screen. The air felt good as she flew through it, and the ground cracked under her feet. Now, it was time to run, but voices caught her attention instead. They didn't come from outside but inside; a meeting was taken place.

"We don't know if there are any command squads left or civilians." Weaver stood in a classroom surrounded by soldiers and survivors. "Thanks to Tom here, we do know that there are people living underground, but they're in danger. The skitters have found them, and we don't know if they're still alive. I know it seems like we're losing this war." He held each and every gaze that met his. "We aren't. We have advantages." He gestured toward Ben and Rick, who stood a good distance away from Tom. "We have weapons that can hurt and kill them." Pope stood to the left, but his gaze now moved toward the window. "We have information that these aliens are constructing huge watch towers. We don't know the purpose as of yet, but we will. I need teams. I need teams to go underground and find out if there are survivors still. I also need teams for surveillance for these watch towers. It's time to turn this tide of war. I will also need runners to leave Boston and see if there are any command squads left. I don't expect you to come back, but we do have working radios now." He looked at Uncle Scott. "You will have our frequencies, so make contact as soon as you do."

Tom followed Pope's stare toward the window. It was dark outside, and he knew that soldiers were patrolling. Pope's stare was intent as if he knew that someone was there, watching, listening. Sky, Tom thought. He shook his head, but now his gaze met Pope's. He was thinking the same exact thing, and if he found her outside, spying on them, he would certainly kill her. Luckily, the meeting was coming to an end, and then he would have to make his move. Or Pope would, and then it would be too late.

Sky avoided Pope's gaze. She had heard enough, and the patrol unit was coming back. She moved swiftly up hill, carried by the breeze, and she paused by a large tree. Nobody was running after her. Maybe nobody knew yet that she had escaped, so she sat on the ground with her back pressed against the tree. And again, she heard that hum.

Sky closed her eyes. She felt herself pulled away from here. She was now flying through the air, and the wind touched her face. She was free. She would never have to know war or loss again. She was happy, but her happiness did not last. The watch towers rose into view, breaking her heart.

The harness kids and skitters were hard at work. They were trying to rebuild what Tom had destroyed. The other aliens only watched, staring up at the sky every now and then as if they were waiting for something. Then, it dawned on Sky. These were not watch towers. They were beacons, homing devices for more aliens to come, and those aliens would not be skitters. As if one of those aliens read her mind, it turned toward her with a giant hand, and a chill raced down her spine. And Sky screamed.

A cold metal pressed against her left temple. A finger wrapped around the trigger. The safety was off. Hesitation paused the hand ready to fire as blood dripped down Sky's nose, and her eyes opened wide with fear. But it wasn't Pope that she was scared of. It was something else.

"What did you see?" Pope pressed his gun further into the side of her head. "What did you see?"

"They're not watch towers." Sky shakily wiped the blood away from her nose, and pain coursed through her. "They're beacons."

"Pope!" Tom raced toward him with Weaver and Anne right behind him. "Don't!"

"Do it," Sky whispered to him. "They know that I saw them."

"Who's side are you on?" Sky didn't answer him. "I will kill you. Don't push me."

"I have nothing to say." He took a step back and aimed his gun at her head. "Go ahead, Pope. Do the right thing."

"Pope," Tom screamed.

"You're going to lose this war." His eyes held hers. "You're going to die."

"I don't think so," and with that said, he pulled the trigger.

"No," Tom screamed, but it was already too late.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten:

"What have you done?"

Tom watched in horror as Pope knelt down and scooped up Sky into his arms. He froze in step as Pope walked past him. Blood was running down Sky's face and arm, and rage coursed through Tom's veins. He didn't have to shoot her. He didn't have to kill her. What was he thinking? It wasn't her fault that she was what she was. They did that to her just like what they did to him.

"Tom." Weaver stood behind him, sensing his anger. "Tom." He reached for Tom's shoulder, but Tom pulled away, bent on following Pope.

Anne was right behind Pope. She tried to look at Sky, but Pope kept moving. He carried her back into the medic lab that was set up. He lied her gently down onto a table, and then Anne was able to assess what was done. And she looked up at Pope with tears in her eyes.

"Pope!" Tom grabbed him and slammed him into a wall. "Damn you," he spat.

"Tom," Anne said.

"What have you done, Pope?"

"Tom."

"What?" He glared at Anne.

"She's alive." Tom didn't release Pope from his grip. "She's wounded, but she's alive." Tom glared at Pope. "Let him go."

"Tom, do what she says." Weaver was now hovering near Sky, staring at the bullet hole in her left shoulder. "Tom…"

"I heard you the first time." He let go of Pope. "Why did you shoot her?"

"To keep her from escaping again." Pope straightened himself up and pushed past Tom. "I wasn't going to kill her."

"You had me fooled," Tom snarled. "I saw that gun pointed at her head."

"Well, I moved my aim just when I fired. Besides, we can use her."

"Use her?"

"Tom, take it easy." Weaver approached Pope. "How do you suggest we use her?"

"She saw something. Right before I shot her, she saw something, and it scared the hell out of her. It scared her so bad that her nose started to bleed." Pope looked from Weaver to Tom. "The watch towers?"

"What about them," Weaver asked.

"They're not watch towers. According to Sky, they're beacons."

"Beacons?"

"Yeah, doc, beacons." Pope glared at Tom. "Those damn aliens are calling for reinforcements, and if we don't do something soon, this war is lost." Anne approached them. "How is she?"

"She'll live, no thanks to you." Pope shrugged. "She's in a lot of pain. I don't know if it's from the bullet or whatever else she went through. What was she doing before you shot her?"

"I don't know. Meditating." Tom shook his head at Pope's answer. "Well, if you don't like that answer, you can kiss my ass."

"Weaver, put me back in charge." Pope laughed. "You think that's funny? You're a loose cannon. You don't know what the hell you are doing. At least, I know what to do." Pope turned his back on him. "Fine, Pope. Walk away. That's what you do best. Just walk away."

Pain surged through Tom. He stumbled back, nearly falling over. Weaver grabbed him, trying to keep him steady. Tears stung his eyes, and he tried to speak. But all he could do was stare at Pope, who now held Rick in his hands.

"This is why you can't be put back in charge."

"Rick, move away." Rick tried to break free from Pope's grasp, but Pope held him still. "Rick here was eavesdropping on us. It seems to be a new fad, but he's proving my point. You go out into the field, Tom, and this is what happens to you. You're a liability, and so is she. But, at least, Sky can prove useful."

"Pope, let him go." Weaver moved Tom over to Anne, who helped him toward a chair. "Now."

"Whatever you say, sir." Pope pushed Rick toward the door. "Don't let me catch you eavesdropping again." He pointed a finger at the boy. "Now, get out of here." He watched Rick leave the room.

"You're really something, you know that?"

"I was just proving a point. He can't be part of the mission."

"That's not your place to make that decision, Pope. Now, get out of this room before I can't restrain myself anymore."

"You going to hit me, Weaver? Take your best shot."

Somebody struck Pope from behind. Pope fell to his knees. He slowly stood up and rubbed his chin. He turned around to face his attacker and was surprised to see Hal ready in a fighting stance for him, and he laughed. The boy was certainly becoming a man.

"Get away from my father," Hal said. "Now, before I hit you again."

"You got a good fist, kid." Pope moved past him, still rubbing his chin. "Your father, however, is not as good as you." He left the room.

"What did he mean by that?"

"Couldn't tell you, Hal." Weaver returned to Tom, but he seemed better. "You okay?"

"He's a loose cannon, Weaver."

"I know, Tom, but he's right. You can't join the mission. You can't fight."

"Yes, I can." Tom struggled to his feet, still unsteady. "I can help."

"No, you can't. I'm sorry." Weaver touched his shoulder and then moved away. "Anne, how's Sky?"

"Ask her yourself. She's awake."

Pain coursed through Sky. Her left arm was bloody, weak. Anne urged her to lie down, but she wanted to sit up. Her head throbbed, and she could still feel that alien's hand touching her mind. And a small stream of blood raced down her nose. "It attacked me," she whispered.

"What did?" Weaver stood over her. "What did you see?"

"The aliens. Not the skitters, but the other ones. They knew that I was spying on them, so they attacked me." She closed her eyes as a tear escaped. "I'm their enemy now."

"But you're not our enemy." She looked at Weaver. "Tell me what you know."

"It's what Pope said. Those watch towers are beacons, and they're calling home. But they won't be skitters. They don't need skitters when the harnessed kids are turning into them." Sky looked at Tom for a moment. "We can't let them finish those towers. If those aliens come here, then Pope is right. We lose. It's over."

"Then, we can't let that happen," Hal said. "Let's blow those towers up."

"Those towers are in every major city, Hal." Weaver rubbed his chin. "We need a coordinated attack. We need to know that it's just not us out there. We move up the mission. We go now to the cities, underground, and to surveil their actions. As soon as we know their timetable and when they plan on calling home, then we'll have to attack."

"Let me help," Tom said. "Please, Weaver. Let me help. Let me go underground. They know me."

"And if the skitters are there?"

"Then, he won't be alone." Hal stood beside his father. "I got his back."

"I should go," Sky said. "They know me. They can trust me. You can trust me."

"Tell me something, Sky. How did you contact the aliens?" Weaver watched her slowly point to the second quill on her back. He slowly touched it and felt its heat. "So, that's how you did it. The third quill was a weapon. What's the first one?"

"I don't know." Sky shuddered at the thought. "I don't want to know."

"Well, if that statement doesn't make me uncomfortable, I don't know what does." He stared at those around him. "Anne, you need to get that bullet out of her arm. Tom…" He looked from Tom to Hal. "You have a go. Take Hal, Dai, and Anthony. Any problems, and I mean any. You get your ass back here pronto."

"Yes, sir." Tom and Hal started to leave the room. "Weaver?"

"Yeah, Tom?"

"What about Pope?"

"He's got surveillance duty."

"And you?" He noticed an uncertain look on Weaver's face as he glanced at Sky. "Weaver?"

"Don't worry about me, Tom. Worry about yourself." He watched Hal lead Tom out of the room. "Anne?"

"Yes, sir?" He looked at her when she said that. "What?"

"Let me know when our patient is fully recovered." He glanced at Sky again. "We need to have a long talk."

Sky didn't like that statement very much. She couldn't blame Weaver, though. She was a liability, and so was Tom. But she was far more dangerous. She could still feel that hum coursing through her second quill, but now she wondered about the first one. Was it a weapon, or was it something far more worse?


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven:

Pain was the ocean that she could drown in. As morning arrived, its waves slowly rolled back, slowly dying. Nerves twitched and tore, and eyes cried. Sleep was cruel, empty, and dreams were none. She was the enemy, a thought that she could not shake, but she wanted to be more friend than foe. Would they allow her to be that, or was her fate already sealed? And was it now just a game to see who would finish her off first?

"You're not the enemy, Sky." Tom sat in a chair beside the bed, staring at her calmly and with concern. "You're not."

"Now, whose reading minds?" He smiled at this. "Why do you care about me, Tom? Why?"

"Because I do." His smile faded a little. "Maybe I feel responsible for you."

"Keep staring at me like this, and you'll make Anne jealous." He laughed. "You're leaving, aren't you?" He sadly nodded. "When?"

"Today."

"Oh."

"You're not alone, Sky." He brushed strands of hair away from her face. "There are others here that will watch over you."

"Like Pope?" He frowned at that. "Weaver?"

"Weaver won't hurt you."

"You so sure about that?"

"He wants to know what you know."

"I don't know anything, Tom, and I wish I didn't." Sky gingerly touched the second quill on her back. "I could rip it out."

"No." He reached for her hand and pulled it away from the quill. "Don't, Sky. You're in enough pain as it is." He held her gaze. "What does the first one do?"

"I don't know. I didn't even know what the second one did until I called to it."

"It?"

"My alien half." She looked away. "I know, Tom. I know I'm part alien." Tears stung her eyes. "That's why I am the enemy." She watched him stand up from the chair. "Pope should've killed me." She didn't realize that Pope was standing by the doorway, listening in. "I don't want to be this. I don't want to be alive."

"Sky…"

"No, Tom." She struggled to sit up in the bed. Her arm was numb, and its pain was hollow. "I hate that I survived, and all those children didn't. I can still see them covered in white sheets. They should be here not me. I'm no good."

"Sky." He glanced at Pope, who looked back at him. "'No matter what anyone says or does, my task is to be good. Like gold or emerald or purple repeating to itself, 'No matter what anyone says or does, my task is to be emerald, my color undiminished.'" He patted her on her head. "Marcus Aurelius said that in his book, Meditations, but they are words to take to the heart." He moved away. "I'll see you again, Sky. I promise, so in the meantime, be good, be emerald." He left the room.

"How poetic," Pope whispered to him as he walked by, but Tom ignored him.

"Are you here to shoot me again?" Sky glared at him. "Or are you here to say good-bye?" Pope returned her glare but didn't answer. He just walked away, leaving her alone. "What do I do," Sky whispered. She touched that second quill, and then her fingers slowly moved up to the first one. A chill raced down her spine, and she pulled her hand away. "I'll be good. I'll be good for you, Tom," she cried. "I'll be emerald, no matter what anyone says or does." She slowly lied back down. "They won't break me next time because I will break them. I'm their enemy now not yours. Not yours."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve:

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Sorry. Got a lot on my mind."

"I see that. Thinking about Sky?" Hal walked beside Tom. "Anne?" He was hoping for a different answer, one about him or his brothers. "Dad?"

"I'm just thinking, Hal. I'm trying to remember." Tom glanced at him as he continued walking down the long road. "I'm trying to remember everything that has happened until now."

The sky was clear, portrait blue. A gentle breeze chased away doubt and fear. The road ahead was full of hope, anticipation, but the road behind was broken and dark. Time was a forgotten thought, but it was easy to forget that the world had come to its end. Its fate now rested with four companions in search of survivors, soldiers for the coming battle, but would there be hope for them in the end? Or was it already too late?

"Pit stop," Maggie yelled as she parked her motorcycle in a nearby driveway. "I'll just be a moment." She hurried into the house that she parked in front of.

Women," Dai muttered as he parked alongside the road.

Tom and Hal shared a good laugh at that comment, and Dai laughed along with them. They stood outside for a long moment, and then Tom slowly moved into the house. Hal and Dai fell into step behind him, and the front door hung open, welcoming them in. Then, it slowly closed shut.

The three companions surveyed the house. It was just like all the others, empty, abandoned, and left in disarray. Its occupants would never be seen or heard from again. Pictures of family and friends were ghosts left behind. It reminded Tom of that comment made in Blade Runner that in the end, all that would remain would be clutter, bits and pieces of trash to tell the tale of human lives.

"Dad!" Hal was in the basement now. "Dad, look what I found."

Maggie had emerged out of the bathroom, but Dai quickly moved in. She grinned at Tom, who only shook his head. The two of them headed for the basement.

"I told you guys to go before we left," Tom said to her.

"Not my fault I have a small bladder," Maggie snapped back.

The basement was lit up with hundreds of tiny bulbs. Its shelves were packed with dried and canned food, supplies both medical and household, and other necessary items. Jackpot, and they knew it. But how did anybody miss this treasure from before?

"It's like that show," Hal said as he started to stuff some canned goods into his pack. "Couponers or something. These women would save all these coupons and then go shopping with them, saving hundreds of dollars."

"And you would know this how?"

Hal blushed at that, and Maggie stifled a laugh. He scratched the back of his head for a moment and then shrugged. Dai entered the room, looked at him for a moment, and then started to grab stuff off the shelves. "Mom," Hal said to Tom, whose smile slowly faded. "I caught her watching that show one day."

"Oh," Tom said. He grabbed a few items and then stared at what he had taken, a roll of toilet paper and a can of tuna. "We should take a small amount with us to the underground, and then on our way back, we'll grab the rest. Nobody's coming here except us. We're the only ones that know, so let's keep it that way. And let's get back on the road in five." He left the basement.

"What's eating him," Maggie asked Hal.

"Nothing." Hal resumed stuffing a few more items into his pack. "I just said the wrong thing."

Tom was standing in the hallway, staring at a family portrait. The parents looked like down to earth people, and they had three sons. They all smiled in perfection, holding hands. There was happiness in their eyes, and love was in their hearts. Now, they were gone, scattered or dead. Nobody knew, but he knew that they would never go home again. Would he?

"Dad, you okay?" Hal looked from him to the family portrait. "They're kind of like us."

"Were we that happy?"

"Yeah, we were. I mean… We would fight sometimes, but we were a family. We are a family."

"Minus one." Tears touched his eyes. "How did she die?" Hal started to answer, but Tom shook his head. "Never mind. I don't want to know." He moved away.

"You kept us safe, dad. You and I saved Ben." Hal closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I did it again."

"It's not your fault, Hal that I can't hold Ben, that I can't even go near him. Maybe, one day, that will change, but not today." Tom walked outside. "We're wasting sunlight, and it's going to be dark soon. Let's move out." Hal stopped to look at the family portrait. "Hal?"

"Yeah?"

"Your turn to ride the motorcycle."

"Want me to carry you like before?" He was now walking beside his father. "You're not that heavy." Tom chuckled. "I think I'll walk."

"Me too." Tom watched Dai and Maggie climb back onto the motorcycles. "We're not too far away now, and we did pass the warehouse." He shook his head again. "Pope is such an ass."

"That he is," Hal laughed. He spotted something on the road, knelt down, and pushed dirt off of it. He lifted it up between his fingers, so his father could see what it was. "Here you go." Hal tossed him the small, round object.

"Thanks," Tom laughed. In the palm of his hand was a penny, and it was heads up. "Maybe some good luck," he muttered as he rubbed the penny between his fingers. "So?" He looked at Hal. "Penny for my thoughts, huh?" Everyone laughed including him, and the end of day continued to stretch out into the arms of beauty, disappearing into the embrace of oblivion.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen:

It's a scary place, looking into the mind of your own worst enemy. There is no rationalizing with their thirst for domination. There is no love but pure hate, and there is no humanity to survive their tide of war. There is only darkness, devastation, and death. There are only the nightmares that we fear to dream and fear to live, and those dreams live here, deep into the darkest corners of the minds of our enemies, a scary place, a world rising along the edge. But will we fall over without a fight, or will we fight for what good, what love we still carry into our own hearts?

The structures were monstrous, tormented skyscrapers spiraling toward space. Scrap metal and other salvaged parts gave it life, strength, but its heart hummed to the beat of those in control. What ships they had docked inside, and skitters swarmed around the base. The watch towers were near completion, and it would soon be time to call home. And then, the world would end with all hope gone, snuffed out without a trace.

A small group of men hunkered down nearby, surveying the scene. Guns were at the ready, and binoculars were exchanged. Tension was swift like a cold chill of death, and no words could penetrate the growing doom that surrounded them. Fear touched the back of their minds as they looked deep into their enemies, trying to find reason, trying to find weakness, but who were these white giants? Why did they come here, and how could they be killed?

"You ever see a dog fight," Pope asked Anthony. "Those skitters remind me of rottweilers, nastiest dogs, and they have no emotion, no thought but to kill. Kill anything that you put in front of them."

"And you know this how, Pope?"

"I've seen a few dog fights."

"Seen or ran?"

"Tell me something, Anthony. If you didn't want to be with me, then why did you switch with Maggie?"

"It's like I said, Pope." He returned to surveying the aliens below. "I owe you my life, and until that debt is repaid, I'm not leaving your side."

"Well, don't worry about it." He too returned his focus on the task at hand, gaining intel into their enemies plot on taking over the world for good. "I'll probably save your ass one or two more times anyway."

"We'll see." Anthony smiled. "The fight hasn't come to us yet."

"Oh, it will, my friend. It will." Pope looked sad for a moment. "We might be the only ones to determine the fate of this world."

"Didn't take you for a deep thinker."

"Well, you didn't let me finish. We might also be royally screwed."

"There's the Pope I know." Anthony laughed.

"Pope." One of the men nearby gestured toward something, and Pope followed his gaze. "Look at that."

"Those aren't," but Anthony fell silent.

"Harnessed kids, or what's left of them." Pope watched through his binoculars as the harnessed kids formed a link around the tower. "Apparently, they have a lot of them." He noted how their faces were green, distorted, and their eyes were empty with nobody home. "Crap."

"What are they doing," another man whispered loudly.

"Human shields." Pope slumped down onto the ground. "Those bastards are using them as human shields, so when we attack, we have to go through them first."

"Jesus," Anthony breathed. "They're just kids."

"Not anymore." Pope handed him the binoculars. "They're half skitters now, and the skitters aren't too far behind. Those white giants are sitting pretty, letting them do their dirty work for them. Heartless bastards."

"You don't think Ben will look like them, do you?" Anthony stared at one boy, whose face was twisted and scarred. "Tom couldn't handle that."

"He can't handle a lot of things right now."

"Pope, go easy on him. We need him."

"Yeah, Anthony, we need him, and they broke him. He can't even go near that place like he can't hold his son. He can't help us or save us. He's just in the way now." Pope looked at those now watching him. "He's a good man. I'll admit that, but he was better off dead."

"Pope," Anthony said, but Pope's glare silenced him.

"Come on. We have to head back and report this."

"What about Sky?" Pope glanced at Anthony. "She could help us."

"Or she could kill us. Which one do you think she will do? She pulled that spike out of her back really fast, and that second one was like a glow stick. What does the first one do?"

"I don't know."

"You see, Anthony, that's the problem. Now, let's go."

The men crawled slowly away from their hiding spot. They laid low not to attract any attention. They hoped that under the fall of night, they could gain more cover, but if they had to, they were ready to fight, ready to lay down their lives to give the others a fighting chance. The tide of war was growing, and they could feel it. It would either consume them, or it would turn in their favor. Either way, time would tell, and it would tell soon.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen:

Soft, green earth traveled under a gentle breeze. The sun was beauty, painted around with white, fluffy clouds. Deer grazed nearby, and nature had met her peace. No storms were brewing, wars destroying, and the planet could heal again. The blight known as mankind was finally gone.

"We are not the enemy," a voice said. "We are reason, decision, and solution." The voice drifted across the wind. "The world can heal again."

"You did all this to save the planet?" Sky walked beside the tall, white alien, whose face was flattened with two ugly holes underneath its eyes. "I don't believe you." Its hands flexed, reminding her of webbed feet. "You killed us all."

"You'll help," the voice inside her mind said. "Then, you too will die." The alien continued to walk uphill. "We all serve purpose, and purpose will be served."

"I won't die," Sky said. "The war's not lost yet."

"The war was already won."

The tall, white alien now stood on top of the hill. Its frail arm drifted outward, ready to fly away. Its narrow fingertips pointed forward, and Sky looked in that direction. The alien would have smiled, if it had lips, but it just tilted its head, waiting for its point to be proven. And Sky's heart sunk.

Behind her was a vast forest. The animals were safe, peaceful. The sky was beautiful, sparkling with new life. The scenery over the hill did not match such a serene portrait. It was instead industrial with the watch tower in its center. The skitters were hard at work, hard at work on… Ships. They were readying up for another assault.

The tall, white alien moved toward her, but Sky jumped away. She understood now. Some would stay behind and care for the planet. The skitters would remain also to do the labor, but the rest of them were now leaving. They were heading to other worlds to do what they had done here, and she realized that if mankind did not stop them, nobody would. Nobody would be left except for them.

The first quill in her back began to hum, and the tall, white alien growled like a rabid dog. It lunged toward her, but she moved quickly out of its way. Its arms were long, and its fingers became like daggers, ready to slice open her face. It appeared as friend, but now it was her enemy. But it wasn't hate that drove it. It was fear.

Sky sat up in the small cot. Her arm throbbed, but it finally healed. Her fast healing worried Anne, but she was part alien. And that part of her was waking up again. She knew that if she slept for much longer, that tall, white alien would be waiting to kill her. Sleep was a luxury now that she couldn't have, and she would have to hide those sedatives that was forced on her every night. If she died in her sleep, if the alien succeeded in killing her, then the war would truly be lost.

"What was it that you didn't want me to know?" Sky reached behind her back and gingerly touched that first quill. It was warm, and the second one was hot. They were communicating with her while she slept, so the threat was real. And she could not sleep no more, but was that what they wanted? "What were you so afraid of," Sky whispered out loud.

The sun shined through the blinds. The day was dressed in beauty with white, fluffy clouds. Kids laughed and played outside. There was no war. There was no violence. There was no death, but to believe in that was a lie. It just wasn't real.

"You're awake?" Weaver entered the room and stood a good distance away from her. "What are you looking at?"

"You ever see that movie, The Thirteenth Floor?" Weaver did not answer. "Douglas Hall stood beside the window, glancing out, but he knew what he saw wasn't real. It was all a lie, and he was a puppet on someone else's strings."

"Are you saying that you are a puppet?" He took a step forward. "Are they trying to control you?"

"They're afraid of me." Sky now faced him. "There's something about me that they are afraid of." She hesitated. "If I sleep, they will kill me."

"They can't touch you here."

"Yes, they can." Sky stepped toward him. "They showed me something. In my dream. They showed me."

"Showed you what?" He tried to gauge her, her every moment, but it was hard to tell if she was playing him. "What did you see?"

"The future." She held his gaze. "Without mankind."

"They win." He laughed harshly at that. "Keep dreaming, Sky."

"No, I wasn't dreaming, Weaver. This is what they intend on doing, wiping us out for good, and doing it to other worlds." She took another step toward him. "We can't let them win. We draw the line in the sand here, now, and we fight them. We fight them until our last breath because if we can't stop them, then they do win. And they will survive not us. Not us." She now stood in front of him. "I won't let that happen, and they know that." She reached behind her, and her hand was now inches over the first quill. But Weaver grabbed her arm.

"Don't even think about it."

"I wasn't going to pull it out." He continued to hold her arm. "There is something about the first one that they are afraid of." She held his gaze. "It's a weapon."

"You mean you're the weapon, and that's my problem with you, Sky. You're a liability."

"Like Tom?"

"He has nothing to do with this, and I will decide on what to do about you."

"Then, decide this, captain. If I don't fight with you, if I don't use whatever this quill was meant for against them, then we will lose. We. Will. Lose." He released her arm and stepped away. "I saw a world without us in it." He rubbed his chin. "I want to kill them." He looked at her. "I want them to die."

"Even if that means you dying yourself?"

"I'm dead already." She was surprised at how much that statement hurt, and he saw that. "Please. Please, let me fight with you." He stepped toward the door, turning his back on her. "Please!"

Weaver turned to look at her. His gaze was hard, but his eyes were soft. He understood. He knew about loss and suffering, and he knew about struggle and fighting. This wasn't just his war. This was also hers, and he knew that she was right. He would need her, but a knot twisted in his stomach. It would end badly for her, but he didn't have the heart to tell her that. Instead, he gestured toward her and said, "Come on. We got work to do."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen:

Tragedy is the large gaping abyss left in the wake of destruction. No hope could fill its void. Heaven's tears would never wash its pain away. The hole would remain, a reminder of that day. It would remain to tell the fact that the war was far from over and lives were still being lost, and it would tell of the struggle of those left behind, trying not to be swallowed by the abyss. But the hole would remain until the day the world came back from the brink and our enemies would be forever gone.

"Should we enter?"

"No." Tom stared down into the large, gaping hole. He remembered crawling out of it with Sky in his arms. "The caves are sealed. There's no way of getting in." He remembered the soldier lying wounded in the wake of war. He didn't have a chance, but he went down fighting just like Lady did. They refused to surrender, to give up, and he too would not fall without a fight. "Let's walk further down this road. I'm sure we'll find another manhole."

A few moments later, Tom and his companions made it down into the underground. There was no telling if the survivors were still alive, if they were still nearby. The aliens and skitters knew of their whereabouts, and it was his fault. If he did find them, would they shoot him on sight, or would they take him prisoner? It was a good thing that he did not come alone, but his son and his friends were now in danger. And it was because of him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Tom laughed at Hal's comment. "What are you thinking about?"

"The first World War. British soldiers used tunnels as underground towns. Almost a century later, those tunnels were flooded out, preserving everything that they had left behind, and now people are using tunnels again as underground towns." Tom was quiet for a moment. "What are you thinking about?"

"Terminator," Hal responded. "Mankind hid underground to escape the terminators. They fought when there was no hope left but extinction, and in the end, they prevailed."

"I was thinking of 9/11." Maggie walked behind them. "People were buried alive, and they could've given up. They could've died, but they held on. They held on, and they were found, saved. They were given another chance to live, live for those lost."

"And then the aliens came," Dai said.

"And then the aliens came," Maggie repeated.

"How sweet," a bitter voice replied. "I'm so touched." His words were followed by the click of a gun.

Kenny stepped into view. The right side of his face was badly burned, and a fire of rage lit up his eyes. He aimed his gun at Tom, and his finger begged to press the trigger. He edged a little closer, taking in those that stood around his enemy, and his own men of eight were also ready to fire. But he would wait. He would wait a beat to give this traitor a chance, a moment to live. "So, you've returned. Wanted to make sure that we were all dead?"

"No." Tom held his hands up in front of him. He gestured to Hal, Maggie, and Dai to do the same. "We need your help." Kenny laughed bitterly. "The aliens are building watch towers, beacons to call home."

"E.T., phone home."

"Kenny." Tom took a step toward him, but Kenny was now ready to fire. "They're calling for the rest of them to come here and finish what they have started. If they succeed, then we are dead." Tom let his words sink in. "Lady gave me a chance. I beg you to do the same."

"Lady's dead because of you, and so is that soldier," Kenny snarled.

"They put a tracking device in his arm," Hal said. "We got it out, but we almost lost him."

"Well, maybe he should've died," Kenny barked at Hal.

"He's my father!"

"Your father? I thought your son was a lot younger, Tom."

"I have two brothers," Hal said not giving Tom a chance to speak. "You kill him, and you'll orphan them. You'll orphan me." He moved in front of Tom. "Listen to my father. He knows what he is talking about. We have intel that you don't have."

Kenny's men were getting anxious, and he could feel it. He should just kill them, kill all of them after what was done. He looked from Tom to Maggie and to Dai, but then his gaze rested with Hal. "And where did your intel come from?"

"Sky," Tom responded.

"Sky," Kenny repeated. "Thank you, Tom for taking her away from us." He was now inches away from Tom. "More skitters came, and we had no warning. A lot of people died because of you. Because of you!" He struck Tom on the side of his head, knocking him down.

Hal moved toward his father, but Kenny swerved his gun toward him. His men had the other two lined up in their sights. All they had to do was press the trigger. Then, they could return to where they set up shelter, but he ran Tom and Hal's words over and over in his mind. In case they did know something, then maybe they shouldn't die. Yet.

Kenny hauled Tom to his feet and marched him forward. His men followed suit and did the same with the others. They walked for a good distance down a winding tunnel, and no light conversations followed. No words, no glances but the movement of a gun. And finally, they reached their destination, a large, open area, where more of Kenny's soldiers waited.

"Start talking." Kenny threw Tom into a chair. His men held back the others. "Say the wrong thing, and I'll kill your son first." Tom rubbed the side of his head. "Do you understand?" Tom slowly nodded. "Then, open your mouth, and talk."

"Sky is not what you think she is." Some of Kenny's men did not look surprised. Neither did he. "She was not a regular harnessed kid."

"As you can see, I'm not surprised. What else do you have?" He stood in front of him with his gun aimed at Tom's heart. "Is that it?"

"She's a sleeper. Those three quills in her back are not just quills. One was like a sword, and the second was a beacon, a transmitter. And she risked her life to get us the information that we needed."

"Needed? For what?"

"To fight back." Kenny laughed at that. "Would you rather that we just surrendered?"

"Look around you, you idiot. The war's lost. We're trying to survive, and we were doing a good job of it until you came along. And whether you meant to or not, the skitters followed, and I lost good people. Now, we are trying to survive because we're being hunted down here every damn day."

"If the aliens succeed in bringing more of them here, there is no survival. There is nothing because they won't allow you to live down here or up there." Tom looked from Kenny to his son. "I have a family, and I am fighting for them. We need to fight. We just can't hide down here and hope that they forget about us because that won't happen. And the skitters following me here was proof of it because they used me as bait. They used me, and your people are dead because of me. You have to do something." Kenny wrapped his finger around the trigger. "You have to fight them."

"With you? After all that you had done? Are you kidding me?"

"Listen to him," Maggie said.

"Shut up!" Kenny waved his gun toward her. "The only one that I want to hear speak is this man right here, this man responsible for bringing the war to us."

"The war was coming either way," Dai said, and a soldier knocked him down to the ground with his gun.

"I said shut up! All of you!" Kenny stepped back from Tom. "I don't know if I should just kill you. My men wouldn't even blink. You did this to us. You put us in this predicament. The civilians had to be divided and sent into different tunnels just to have a chance to survive, but now you're telling me that more of them are coming? I don't know, Tom. I don't know why I should trust you."

"Then, don't Kenny." Tom get his voice steady, but he too was growing anxious. "Don't believe me, but believe Sky. You know her."

"I thought I did," Kenny responded. "Now, you're telling me that she is one of them."

"She isn't, and she is."

Pain ripped through Tom. He sat up from the chair, and Kenny pointed his gun at his head. Tom didn't care. He fell to the ground, writing in pain, and he screamed. Spit dribbled out of his mouth, and Kenny looked confused. Was this some kind of trick?

"Skitters," Hal screamed. He broke free from the soldier holding him and ran to his father's side. "The skitters are coming."

"How the hell do you know that?"

"Look at him." Hal gestured toward Tom. "There has to be a lot of them."

"And you brought them here." Kenny pushed his gun into the side of Hal's head. "I should've killed you when I had the chance."

"We're on the same side," Maggie screamed at him. "Now, we can fight together or die together. Which one is it?" She helped Dai to his feet. "We don't have a lot of time, so decide. Now!" Kenny gestured to his men, who moved away from them.

"Okay." He backed away from Hal. "Where are they?"

"Right here." Karen stepped into view. She had slipped in behind them with two skitters at her side. The others were waiting for her command to attack. "Poor Tom. You're just not having a good day, are you?"

"Karen," Hal whispered.

"Hal." Karen's face was a light green. Scales decorated both sides of her neck. Her fingernails were black with razor sharp claws. Her eyes were yellow. "You look at me like I'm such a monster. You know that I'm not."

Kenny realized that they were surrounded, forced back to back. He saw the look on Hal's face, and his heart broke. He loved her, but the girl in front of him was now a monster, the enemy. He knew something like this would happen, and it was a good thing that he was prepared. "Now," he screamed at his men, and they were ready.

Flash grenades erupted throughout the tunnel. The skitters fell back, screaming. Maggie and Dai dove to one side with guns in their hands ready to fire. Kenny and his men just opened fire, hoping to hit their enemies nearby. Hal leaned over Tom and pulled him down a tunnel, hopefully to safety, but Tom wasn't responding. He was still dazed and left in pain.

"Dad, come on," Hal whispered in his ear. "Please. Come on." Tom fumbled for Hal's shoulder and slowly rose to his feet. "That's it. Come on."

Something knocked into Hal, pushing him to the ground. He struggled to hold on to consciousness, but it slipped away. The last thing he felt was his father's hand across his face, but then it was all dark, chased by a slight laugh, a laugh that he knew all too well.

"Tom, Tom, Tom." Karen stood over him now. "I must thank you. Really. We couldn't have done this without you."

"But the tracking device is gone," Tom whispered hoarsely. "You couldn't have been tracking me."

"We didn't have to." Karen pushed her knees into his chest. "I know you. I knew that you would come back here, and we would finish what we had started." She reached behind her and pulled a pin-like needle out of the harness. "For your reward, I will grant you a quick death." Her hand moved toward his neck, but Tom struggled against her grip. But that needle was now grazing his skin. "Don't fight me, Tom. You lost. It's over. Surrender. It's okay. Just go to sleep. Go to sleep, Tom."

"No," Tom cried, trying to keep that needle from digging in deeper. "Karen, you heard me before. Please, hear me now. Don't do this. Please."

"Karen's not here anymore, Tom." Hal struggled back to consciousness, and she saw this. "Did you tell your son about us?" She laughed. "Did you tell him that I was the one that tortured you? He screamed, Hal. Boy, did he scream." The needle penetrated his skin. "Now, I'm going to kill him, and you're going to watch me. And then, I'm going to kill you."

A gunshot rang out through the tunnel. The pin slipped through her fingers, dangling in Tom's skin, sending shivers along his spine. She moved back and stared at Hal for a long moment. She then looked behind her to see Maggie holding a smoking gun.

"And then I kill you, bitch." Maggie watched Karen fall to her side.

"Dad." Hal moved toward Tom and pulled the pin out. "Dad." Tom coughed, slowly feeling his arms and legs again. "Dad."

"I'm okay," Tom whispered, and Karen laughed at that.

"He may be fine, but he won't have his memories. I took them out." She spat green blood out of her mouth. "To get his memories back… He has to… Hold him." Karen died.

"Hal." Maggie stood behind him. "Let me help you."

"I got it." Hal helped Tom to his feet, putting one arm under him for support. "Let's go. We have to find Dai."

"Hal." He walked past Maggie. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and Hal closed his eyes at that. But it was already too late to save Karen.

"He okay?" Kenny approached them.

"Where's Dai," Hal asked.

"Right here." Dai now stood behind Kenny. "Is Tom okay?"

"I don't know."

"Then, let my men look at your father." Hal glared at Kenny. "You fought with us not against us. That says something, boy. Now, let my men look at your father, and then we'll talk about fighting alongside you once more."

"What about the other skitters?"

"Dead or gone," Dai responded. "Karen?" Hal shook his head. "I'm sorry, Hal."

Hal slowly gave his father back to Kenny's men. He watched them lead him away. Kenny clapped him on the shoulder, but that did not give him comfort. Instead, he didn't want to leave Tom's side. He didn't want to think about Karen or what she had done to Tom. "Let's talk," he said to Kenny. "I know more than my father does."

"Your people didn't trust him?"

"Look at him. You've seen what they did to him, and some of my people still see him as a liability."

"But you don't," Kenny asked.

"He's my father." Kenny nodded in respect. "Now, let's talk." Maggie and Dai followed Hal and Kenny into a small room nearby set up as a conference area. "We have a war to win," Hal said, "and I'm done playing nice."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen:

"It's a suicide mission."

Weaver stood before a crowded classroom. On the blackboard behind him was a sketch of the watchtower. Little, white X's indicated the skitters and mechs, and the circles were the links of harnessed kids or what was left of them. The site looked impenetrable, and for anyone to risk such an impossible feat, it would be a suicide mission. "We can't think like that," Weaver roared. "If we think like that, it's over. That's it. We're done," and he let those words sink in.

"There's no way, Weaver," one man said. "Nobody could even make it through those damned harnessed kids."

"We could." Ben was sitting in the front next to Rick. "We could get past them."

"Yeah," Rick chimed in.

"You boys know how dangerous this fight is going to get," Weaver asked.

"We know," Rick said, and Ben nodded.

"Okay, then." Pope sat behind them. "Let's say these boys break us through to the other side. Then, what? We have the skitters and mechs to deal with and not a lot of people to help in the fight. I mean have we heard from our runners yet?"

"Only one." Weaver rubbed his chin. "Joey made it to New York, and they are still kicking, which shouldn't surprise any of us." Laughter lifted his spirit, but only for a moment. "We can do this." He held each and every gaze that met his. "We can, and if Tom succeeds in growing our numbers, then we will have a better advantage."

"Until we meet those tall, white aliens," Pope chimed in. "Then, we get our asses kicked. " He glared at Sky, who stood by the closed door. "We don't know anything about them." He returned his focus to Weaver. "They're sitting back, letting the skitters do their dirty work, but we don't know anything about them."

"They have no lips," Sky slowly said. "They have those ugly holes underneath their eyes like nostrils. Their hands are like webbed feet, and they communicate through telepathy."

"That's great," Pope said. "So, once they get into our heads, we're fu…"

"Who's side are you on, Pope?"

"Don't ask me, Weaver. Ask her." He pointed at Sky. "Apparently, she has all the answers."

"Their fingers turn into like Freddy Krueger knives." Sky waved her fingers at Pope. "One slice, and you're done."

"How do we kill them?" Pope moved toward her. "How do you know so much about them?"

"Because I talked with one in a dream." Sky could sense the growing suspicion and fear of those surrounding her. "It showed me a future, one, where we are all dead including me." This did not soften their intensity toward her. "They're afraid of me, and I don't know why."

"Yeah, you do." Pope was inches away from her. "What aren't you telling us, Sky?"

"That's enough, Pope," Weaver said. "Sit back down, so we can go over the plan."

"No way, Weaver. Not with her in the room." The men behind Pope muttered words of agreement. "I think Sky here has to pick a side."

"And how do you suggest I do that, Pope?"

"You look tired, Sky. Have you been sleeping?" Pope glanced over at Anne, who slowly shook her head. "You want to fight on our side, fight with us? Then, we need more information."

"You'll get her killed, Pope, and Tom…"

"Tom's not here, Weaver, and he doesn't have a say in what I do or this fight. He's broken. You know it, and I know it." Pope grabbed Sky by the arm. "What will it be, Sky? Humans or aliens?"

"Fine, Pope, Have it your way, but remember this. If I die, then you die. Can you live with that?"

"I can." He opened the door behind her and forced her outside. He glanced at Anne and Weaver, who now stood behind him. "Everyone else, wait here." He stepped out of view, and the door closed behind them.

Sky returned to the cot in the nurse's station. Anne hovered over her, administering a sedative. She looked concerned, worried, and afraid, emotions that haunted Sky's own, but she fought to remain strong. She could sense that Weaver wanted to take her by the hand, but he dared not. He did not want to fight with Pope or appear soft, but he too cared about her. The only one that held real hatred for her and those that controlled her was Pope, whose hand never left his gun, which remained holstered to his side.

"What do you plan on achieving by this, Pope?"

"If they can communicate with her while she is asleep, then maybe she could do the same. Remember the night that I shot her?"

"How could I forget," Weaver said sarcastically.

"Well, she snuck in behind enemy lines, and they caught her. But she got through first. She can do it again." He laid a hand on Sky's shoulder. "I'm trusting you, Sky. Get us the intel that we need, and I won't have to kill you."

"Keep your gun at the ready." Sky started to fall asleep. "You might need it."

The night air was cool against her skin. The grass was wet under her bare feet. A gentle breeze greeted her, and the harnessed kids parted like the sea. The skitters and mechs paid her no mind, and she was free to enter the watch tower. And there she heard it, that familiar hum, a hum that called her home.

There were six of them. Six tall, white aliens, who simply ignored her. They were busying over a console, plugging coordinates in, calling home. As long as she did not touch anything, they would not harm her, and she sensed that. They knew the humans were coming, and they were waiting for them. It would be easier to finish them off that way, and Sky would play an essential role in their extermination. She didn't like being a pawn in their endgame, but they had her by the strings. And now she was just a nuisance killing time.

Sky touched the second quill, feeling its warmth. She snapped off a fragment of it and held it in her hand. It hummed like a beautiful symphony, one that did not agree with them, and now they came toward her, fingers like knives. Her hand closed over the fragment, and the hum raced through her. They lunged, only to fall back from the shield that now surrounded her, and Sky laughed. She woke up, laughing.

"That was fast." Pope was sitting in a chair beside her bed. "It's only been twenty minutes." He checked his watch. "Do I need to shoot you?" She couldn't tell if that was a joke. "Do I?" Maybe not.

"No." Sky realized that they were alone. "Where's Weaver? Anne?"

"Continuing the meeting." He read her gaze. "I'm not going to hurt you, Sky."

"Really? Because you did shoot me before."

"I was making a point." He leaned toward her. "Now, what was so damn funny?"

"You have anything sharp on you?" Pope looked confused. "Clippers perhaps?"

"I could find something. Why?"

"Because, Pope, you're going to perform a little surgery." She leaned toward him. "On me." He smiled at that. "I know how to hurt them."

"Welcome to the fight." He rose from the chair and hurried toward the door. "Sky?"

"Yeah?"

"What does the first quill do?"

Sky wanted to answer, but she froze at that question. The image of the alien from Independence Day rose up into her mind. She remembered its expression when it saw the bomb ready to explode, and a cold, deathly chill raced down her spine. She wanted to shake it off, but who was laughing now? "I don't know," she said, hoping that Pope bought into her words, but he was a hard man to read. "I guess we'll find out." She got no response as Pope slowly left the room. "Please, God, don't let it be true," she whispered as the darkness closed in.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen:

The future is black, and the past is white. Its guiding light struggles to change the course to fate, but its past mistakes haunt its every touch. The present is crisscrossed between the roads of then and now, and it could so easily disappear over the edge. Our time, our choice lies in wait, and our hope, our fear dangles across a thin thread. Now is when we see where we've been and where we will go next, and a journey meets its end.

"A school," Kenny asked Tom. "Aren't you afraid of being vulnerable to attack?"

"We were attacked," Tom said, "and we found another school." Kenny muttered under his breath. "It's fitting, if you think about it." He walked beside Kenny.

"Why's it fitting?"

"Because here in a public school, the past meets the future. What we have done, our mistakes are learned, and minds are shaped, empowered to move forward, stand up, and fight for what was lost and what should be." Tom kicked at the ground in front of him. "A perfect world."

"There is no perfect world," Kenny said. "If we lose, there will be no world."

"We know our mistakes, and we know theirs. They think we're weak, and they think that they can manipulate us. I say we prove them wrong. We teach them a thing or two about mankind."

"Well said, Tom." Weaver walked out of the school and greeted him. "Who's this?"

"Kenny, meet Captain Weaver." Tom watched them shake hands. "We got about twenty men."

"Good. We could add it to our own."

"When do we attack," Kenny asked.

"Tonight," Weaver responded. "We're gearing up right now. Tom, a word. Excuse me." He moved away from Kenny. "I need you to supervise the civilians while we're gone."

"No. I want to fight."

"Tom… I spoke to Hal. You sent him ahead on the motorcycle with Dai, and he filled me in." He stared at Tom with worry and respect. "I know what this fight means to you, but I'm sorry. We can't fight these aliens and take care of you."

"Damn it, Weaver. I can take care of myself."

"I'm sorry, Tom." He patted him on the arm. "The decision's been made. You stay behind."

Tom watched Weaver walk back over to Kenny. He spoke to him for a moment without looking in Tom's direction. Then, the two men moved toward the large, brick building while others loaded up trucks with supplies and weapons. Tom's hands folded into fists. It wasn't fair, but Weaver was right. He survived the aliens, but they left him broken with no memory as to who he was. But he couldn't leave it like that. He couldn't let those monsters win. He had to fight, even if that meant dying in the process.

"Dad." Ben stood a good distance away from him. "Dad." Tom looked at him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, Ben. I'm okay." He smiled for a moment, but then he saw the sad look on his son's face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Ben was quiet for a moment. "I just wanted to say good-bye. I heard that you were not coming with us."

"Us?" Tom's heart skipped a beat. "Ben, you're not fighting in this battle." He took a step toward him, but Ben backed away. "You're not fighting, Ben."

"I'm sorry, dad, but I am." He stepped back again. "I'll see you again." He smiled at him, but his smile didn't last long.

"Ben!" Tom raced toward him, but pain seared through his body. "Ben," he screamed as he fell to the ground.

"Let him go, Tom," someone said in his ear. "Let him go." He realized that it was Pope. "We need him, Tom."

"But you don't need me." Tom pushed Pope off of him, and then he saw his necklace. It was a fragment of Sky's quill, and he realized that he had not seen Sky since he got back. "Where's Sky?" Pope looked down at his necklace. "What did you do to her, Pope?"

"He didn't do anything." Sky walked toward them. Her second quill was sliced down to the skin on her back, but the first one extended outward like an antennae. "Pope, Weaver is asking for you."

"Thanks, Sky." Pope left them alone. "We leave soon, Sky. Be ready," he yelled back at her.

"You too, Sky." She nodded in response. "Everyone's fighting but me." His heart felt like it was going to break. "I can't be left behind while my sons fight."

"You have Matt, your other son, Tom. You need to protect him while his brothers go to war." She touched the side of his face. "I wish you remembered." He was surprised at how warm her skin was. "Then, you could fight. Be the hero like you were before." She turned away from him, and for a moment, he could hear a soft hum from the first quill. "I'm sorry, Tom," she whispered, and he was at a loss for words.

Hours melted into the sweet embrace of past. Moments froze to be remembered. Fear trembled along the unknown road, the unwritten future with its pages that would run red, but would salvation await the last page? Or would the light go out for good, leaving fate in darkness, the end of the world?

"Tom." Anne stood behind him. She watched him stare out the window, at the men now sitting in the trucks with their guns in hand, and at his sons, Ben and Hal. "It's for the best, Tom."

"For the best?" He spun around toward her. "Everyone is treating me like an invalid! I'm not sick!" His hands tightened into fists. "They need me, Anne. They need me to fight with them. I need to fight with them. I need to be there alongside my sons to make sure that they survive."

"What about you," Anne cried. "What about you, Tom? You can't fight. You'll die. Do you really want to put your sons through that?" Tears filled his eyes at the touch of her words. "They're protecting you. They're saving you. Don't you see that?"

"I can't just stand here and not do anything, Anne."

"You can't go, Tom! You can't." He moved past her, and she tried to stop him. But he was determined, bypassing her, and storming outside. "Tom!" Her heart was breaking. "Don't go. You'll die!"

Tom stepped outside. The engines were revving up. The men were ready to go. Hal and Ben stood beside one truck, ready to get in. They turned to see Tom heading straight for them.

"Dad," Ben said. "Don't!"

Pain seared through Tom, but he struggled against it. He felt sick, weak, but he would not let those bastards crush him down. He would not let them manipulate or break him. He would not be their pawn anymore. He was a soldier, but more than that, he was a father. And he grabbed Ben and Hal, and he held them tight in his arms, even if he was ready to crumble to the ground.

"Dad!" Matt flew toward them and threw his arms around Tom. "Dad," he cried.

Nobody dared move. Nobody breathed. All eyes were on the man struggling to hold his sons in his arms, despite the pain wracking his body. All they heard were his sobs as he kissed each one on the forehead. His love was the light that the men needed, and now they were ready. They were ready to meet their enemies head on, and they were ready to take back what was lost, what should be. Their world.

"Come on, Tom." Anne slowly moved him away from his sons. "They have to go. Come on." He allowed her to lead him away. "You'll see them again," and she hoped that there was truth to her words.

"I love you," Tom yelled back at them. He watched Ben wipe his eyes, and Hal helped him into the truck. Matt stood to the side, staring at Tom and then at his brothers, hoping to see them again. "I love you!"

The trucks took off down the dark road. The future rode beside them. The past merely waved good-bye. The present shattered like the man that slumped forward, but Anne grabbed hold of Tom. But Tom did not fall into darkness. Instead, he fell deep into the heart of memory.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen:

It all started with a dream. The sky was turmoil, and the ground was violent, war-stricken. The dead children or what remained of their humanity was left shadowed, lying across the bitter edge. The mechs were down for the count, and the skitters were crumbled in defeat. The watch tower stood with its six ivory aliens inside, but the gunfire roared like the god of thunder. And then silence. Nothing, nobody breathed, and then everything and everyone vanished into a brilliant, white light. The world was over.

Tom sat up in a sweat. His hand shook so badly as he wiped his brow. Tears stung his eyes. His sons, Hal and Ben were dead. Pope and Weaver were gone. They were all gone, and they were the ones defeated. The aliens had it right. The war was lost from the start, and there was no reason to fight. There was only reason to die.

"Tom." Anne stepped out of darkness and hugged him like her life depended on it. "How could Sky do that," she cried. "How could she kill them all?" Tom was speechless. "How could she do that!"

Tom was about to answer, but a loud crack of thunder broke him from her gaze. The ground softly shook, and the skies ran red. He moved slowly out of Anne's embrace and toward the window. His eyes searched the world outside, but there was nothing, nobody. And then the building exploded, tearing Anne apart, pulling her into a white light, and Tom screamed. He screamed as he too broke apart into a million pieces, leaving nothing, no more humanity behind.

"Tom!" He snapped awake under Anne's penetrating light. "You okay?" She checked his eyes and then his pulse. "Are you with me?" Instead of answering her, he hugged her like his life depended on it. "Tom?" She stared into his eyes, and then she knew. "You're back!" She hugged him tightly. "You're back," she cried.

"We were wrong, Anne," Tom cried. "We were wrong about Sky."

"Tom, what are you talking about?" She leaned back from him, so that she could measure the dread in his voice. "You were having such a nightmare. What did you see?"

"Sky's a bomb, Anne." His heart sank along with hers. "She's going to kill us all. I saw it."

"No… No!"

"We made it through into the watch tower, but something goes wrong. Something goes terribly wrong, Anne, and we all die. You and me. We die."

"No! We have to warn them. We have to do something." One hand rested at her waist as the other lingered over her forehead. "We can't let that happen."

"I know." Tom slowly moved off the cot and walked toward her. "I have to go, Anne. Maybe, if I'm there, I can change this."

"Tom, I can't let you go. Weaver's orders."

"We're going to die, Anne! All of us!" She winced at his words. "If you don't let me go, if you don't give me a chance, then we lost. The world is over."

"Okay," Anne slowly said. "Okay. There's one truck left, and I can get you a gun."

"Dad?" Matt entered the room. "You're going?"

"I have to, Matt." He knelt down in front of him. "Our lives depend on it."

"We lose?" Tom closed his eyes. "No. It can't happen that way. Dad, you have to do what you did before. Be a hero. Please!" Tom touched his shoulder and then his face, but touching his face reminded him of Sky's touch. Was that why he saw what he saw? Now, all he saw in his son's eyes was fear and sorrow. "Please!"

"Don't worry, son." He kissed Matt on his cheek. "I'm going to save the world."

"Tom?" Before he could say or do anything, Anne held him again and kissed him passionately on his lips. "This time, come back to me."

"I promise," Tom said. He moved away from Anne and ruffled his son's hair before leaving the room. "I'll see you both again. I promise."

The ride to the watch tower felt like forever. It never dawned on him on why the aliens didn't attack the school. They didn't need to. They knew everything. Just like they had tagged him, they tagged Sky. They were just lying in wait, playing possum, and his men, his sons were walking into a trap. Sky knew, and she didn't say a word. Was she really the enemy or just a pawn on their chessboard?

The scenery before him played out just like his dream. He didn't have much time. He gingerly stepped over the harnessed children, trying hard not to stare at their faces or their open eyes. He spotted some of his men or Kenny's men lying dead or wounded on the battlefield. His sons were nowhere in sight, and his gut twisted, knowing that they too were somewhere inside. He was too late, but no, he could not think like that. He was still breathing. There was still hope, and that was more than enough to bring him to the watch tower door.

"Tom… Tom…"

Weaver was badly wounded. A mech had caught him across his left side, and he was bleeding out. He lied across the metal exterior, and his gun rested in his hand. He didn't look surprised to see Tom. Instead, he smiled and coughed at the same time. "Your sons did well," he said. "They're inside with those that made it."

"Not for long." Weaver stared at Tom. "Sky's a bomb, and she's going to kill us all." Weaver sighed in response. "I saw it." Tom swallowed hard. "We can't let the aliens win. We can't." Weaver pressed his gun into Tom's hand. Tom slowly accepted it. "Weaver…"

"I'm happy you're back, Tom. Now, go."

"Captain…"

"I said go! Now! You saw what she did? Then, why are you still talking to me? Get in there, and shoot her! Before this world ends, Tom!" Tom slowly stepped away from Weaver. "Go." He spat blood on the ground beside him. "Go."

"I'll come back for you," but Tom already knew. In the next few moments, Weaver would be dead, and there would be no saving him this time. "Thank you."

"It was an honor serving with you too." He extended his hand, and Tom shook it. "Give them hell, Tom." His hand slipped away. "Give them hell…"

Gunfire erupted inside, and bullets struck metal. Shouts and screams echoed across the void, and footsteps raced from floor to floor. Pope was screaming orders, and Kenny's voice chased his. They thought they were winning. They thought wrong.

"Sky, you okay?" Pope noted her pale skin and the sweat running down her face. "What's wrong with you?"

"Just feel sick. That's all."

"That's all?"

The humming was unbearable. Her back felt like it was on fire. If only she could rip that first quill out, then she could end this. Instead, every step was like a knife to her heart, and it was getting harder to breathe. She could feel her control slipping away, and hope was being replaced by terror. She was going to die. They were all going to die.

"Stay close to me," Pope pulled her to his side. "You sick? You're awfully warm. Sky, there is no time to be sick."

"Pope, let's find those aliens. They're here, but they're hiding, watching us. I can feel them." She moved ahead of him. "This way."

"Sky," but she didn't answer him.

Like her vision, she entered the main room. The console was pulsing. They did it. They were calling home, linked to all the other watch towers in the world. They won, so why were they being cowards? Why were they not showing themselves or fighting back?

"They're shielding themselves," Sky said out loud.

"What? Why?" Pope spun her toward him. "Why, Sky? Why?"

"Because of me," Sky cried. "I'm sorry, Pope. You should've killed me when you had the chance." More tears fell down her face. "I'm a bomb." He aimed his gun at her, but now he couldn't fire. He tried, but he couldn't do it. "Please, Pope. Kill me."

"Can you stop it?"

"No."

"Try, Sky." Tom stepped into view. "Try."

"Tom?" She wiped her tears aside. "You're back?" He nodded. "How?"

"You." He stepped in front of Pope. "Sky, you're stronger than you think." He was going to shoot her, but he too couldn't do it. He would not be cold and cruel like those aliens that took her humanity apart. "Look at me, Sky. You can stop this. All you have to do is try."

"Dad?" Hal entered the room. "What's going on?" His right arm was bloody, and he was limping a little. "What's happening?"

"Dad." Ben appeared behind him with no wounds to tell of. "You're back."

"Get them out of here, Tom. Get them all out of here." Sky stood beside the console. She was slipping. She could feel it. "I can't control myself. I'm sorry."

"Tom?" He looked at Pope. "I'll stay with her. Get your sons to safety. Get everyone out."

"Pope, I came here with a reason."

"And you succeeded." He took him by the hand and shook it, tightly. "Now, it's my turn." He smiled sadly. "The same for you, Anthony. Don't shoot her." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Anthony aiming his gun at Sky's head. "Killing her won't do any good. Will it?" Sky shook her head. "Now, get out of here. All of you."

"I'm not leaving your side, Pope." Anthony now stood beside him. "I'm staying right here."

"You're a pain in my ass," Pope said to him.

"Sky?" Tom moved toward her. "Do you remember when I hugged my sons before?" She nodded. "Do you know how much that hurt me?" She nodded again, still crying. "Think about it. Keep that memory with you." He now had Hal and Ben in his arms. "Think about that moment, Sky. That moment, where I put myself through agony to regain the love that I lost."

"I'll remember." Funny enough, that memory gave her strength. "I remember." Tom nodded and moved out of the room. "Good-bye, Tom. Thank you for being my friend." She turned toward Pope and Anthony, whose guns remained in hand. "You two need to leave. I know what I must do." Pope shook his head. "Pope, please."

"No."

Sky walked toward him. She touched the fragment of her quill that remained around his neck, protecting him as she promised. She touched his face. Then, she kissed him on the lips. "Remember me," she whispered as she slowly pulled his breath into her mouth, stealing his consciousness away. "Remember me."

Sky could feel the hard metal of Anthony's gun pressing into the side of her head. She watched Pope fall to the ground. Pushing the gun aside, she gestured toward the man lying at her feet. "Do what you promised. Save his life. Get him out of here."

"And you?" Anthony knew the answer by the look on her face. "Good-bye, Sky." He picked up Pope in his arms and hurried out of the room. "Good luck."

When she was certain that they were gone, Sky started to work the console in the room. The doors whispered shut. A hum coursed through the room, vibrating through her every being. The walls opened, revealing the aliens, who now snarled and whose fingers became like knives. The screens flickered, revealing their world, and she pressed her hand into it, jelly-like machinery that connected to her flesh.

"Sorry, boys," Sky said. "Game over."

Tom was standing outside with his sons. Kenny had tried to get all of his men cleared from the watch tower. Anthony erupted outside with an unconscious Pope in his arms. And then nothing, nobody moved. A brilliant, white light engulfed the watch tower, launching a powerful beam toward space, and across the world, the watch towers fell, annihilating those inside.

"Thank you," Tom cried. "Thank you, Sky." He held Hal and Ben tightly in his arms. "You saved us all."


	19. Chapter 19

Final Chapter:

The war was over. Devastation stretched across the scenery, but the promise to rebuild was beating like a heart set free. The dead would not go into that good-night without being remembered for the heroes that they truly were. Dreams rose high from the underground for no longer would fear and hate be the keepers of those that struggled to survive. The enemy was gone, never to return for they sent their signal, their message into space. We are human, and we are here to stay. And our world will begin again.

"Anne said I would find you here." Tom walked toward the vast graveyard surrounded by the debris of the watch tower. "What are you doing, Pope?"

"Saying my good-byes, professor." He wiped his eyes. "Saying my good-byes." He stood in front of a small, stone slab. "Is that okay with you?"

"I miss her too." Tom laid a hand on Pope's shoulder but then moved it away a moment later. "I thought you hated her, that you wanted to kill her."

"I did, but she was like me. She was trapped in a world that she didn't belong to, and now she's free." He kept his back toward Tom. "What about me, though? Do I go back to my old life now? Run from the cops like before?"

"I think you've earned your place here, Pope." Tom stepped beside him. "She didn't want you to die."

"Yeah. Why's that?"

"Because she saw a villain become a hero."

"How poetic." Pope gingerly touched the piece of quill still hanging around his neck. "Fighting the aliens, fighting this war made sense. I wanted to die in battle not die as an old man. Jesus, I don't even want to catch myself wearing depends." Tom laughed. "I'm no hero." Tom smiled at him. "I'm not. I'm just… Pope. If I do recall, you didn't like me either."

"You grew on me. I guess a thorn in the side just does that." Tom touched the tombstone in front of them and said a silent prayer. "She's free, Pope, and you're a free man." He moved away. "You need to ask yourself do you go back to your old life, or do you start a new one?"

"I don't know." Pope shrugged. He slowly touched the tombstone in front of him. "I don't know what to do."

"It's a new world, Pope. We need leaders. We need heroes." He glanced over at Weaver's grave, and Pope followed his gaze. "Come on. Time to go home. We have a lot of work ahead of us."

"Last men standing, huh Professor?"

"Apparently, not. Our runners found life in New York, Washington, and Los Angeles. If history tells us anything, it tells us that we will always survive, and we will rebuild." Pope walked toward him. "And we will never forget those that saved the world."

"Amen, professor." Pope moved past him. "Amen."

"Good-bye, Sky," Tom said as he looked at her grave. "Thank you for believing in me."

The two men walked side by side up the hill. The sun set behind them, but it would back, it promised. The ground was broken beneath their feet, but despite its destruction, it would heal again. The scars would always be there to tell the tales of the past, but that would only give strength to the future. Life was the gentle breeze stirring, lifting high to heaven, and seeking home in a brand new world, and dreams chased the shadows away. And the two men disappeared over the hill.


End file.
